The Crow With No Feathers
by Grace Keely
Summary: The war still looms over the horizon, and the night had just crept on the edge. On the precipice of it all, a woman out of time stands fierce and true— but also looking down and careful not to fall. What happens next after she had changed a LOT of things is now a new mystery, but that's why she's there to uncover it! ...or maybe not? Book 2 of the TGWLTW series. OC Insert!fic
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Rory's still on the run for Martin's money, but I'm still in no way earning anything out of this except self-esteem and a couple of drinking-writing episodes. I don't own anything except the characters you're not familiar with!**

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 **A/N: Just putting an icing on the cake for the season premiere. I for one am so excited and that's why I couldn't wait to bring you another precious gift: BOOK 2 OF THE TGWLTW SERIES ! YAY ! It's gonna be nowhere near the hypeness of Season 7, but this is to ease your tension for a little bit. Anyway, just to give you a heads up, I still have long ways to go with this story. It's also gonna be waaaay shorter than Book 1, because this book is probably just a transition to all of the events that will be happening on (maybe) the third installment. And the updates for the chapters are gonna be sporadic. This and the next chapter will be the ONLY moment that it gets timed because I felt gracious enough to do so.**

 **So, without further ado, on with the opening theme!**

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Chapter 1

Prologue

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It was a busy night at the city. Bustling people. Bright yellow lights scattered all over the place. It was a warm summer evening, and it seemed like the night for everyone was still young, even if it was an hour before midnight. I was calmly gazing over it all atop an apartment of a friend's—a flat to be in fact.

Not mine, by the way. God knows I could only afford this thing if I were to sell my soul to the devil. And yes, I was able to make a friend that's _this_ well accommodated in life. Rose Krumskie's parents were business tycoons, and she was not your ordinary rich kid with those fancy makeups and those over the top fashion sense. She was slightly more reserved than that. Thing is though, she was one of those down-to-earth kind of gal. She hadn't really bothered her popularity and reputation around the campus either. No one really cared anyway, and everyone seemed to appreciate it like that.

There was a small get-together with some of our friends and we happily took the time to schedule things off from our daily lives, a surefire decision for a guaranteed chill-out and relaxation session before the dreaded finals. It wasn't really a big party, there were more or less a dozen people in there cramping up the room. It's also kind of a costume-themed one, thus, the Frodo get-up I'd worn many times over as a typical party gag.

… It was my only costume that I can still wear, for that matter.

Again, it was just a normal party. Conversations, a few drinks, they even had the Star Wars saga humming somewhere in the background. The typical sort in a group thing, but somehow a little bit fancier with all of how Rose handles things sometimes. Besides, it was better that way anyway.

"Hey girl!"

I made an "oomph," when I suddenly got bump-tackled by the devil herself. I looked behind me and she was there.

She was all smiles with eyes that of a seductive harpy. Not totally dissing her in any way though. Rosalyn was a very attractive person; she could hook up with any guy on campus but she just wittingly chose not to do so. She was sort of the same height as me, if only slightly taller, flawless skin that obviously did not do any kind of physical work in her life, and her eyes were a simple fair blue.

"Hiya, Rosa ma chica." I greeted her with a chuckle, after leaning back. She gruffed. She never really did like that nickname.

"I can't believe you're still at me with that."

"It's a funny story!" I laughed again. She smacked me lightly, earning myself a stinging pain on my forearm. Obviously not wanting to tread on the topic any longer, she finally decided to change it.

"Watcha doin' out here, Rory? Party's way over inside."

I paused. My smile slowly faded, and my mind started to wonder.

"I don't know," Then replying, again looking back at the view. "Sorry about that. I got thrown off a bit."

"What's wrong?" Her eyes now fluttered with concern.

I blushed, feeling embarrassed. "I— ah…"

"Come on now, one letter and a gargled response ain't gonna cut it." She turned a little to face me, making her bright blonde hair fall into the bricks that separated us from the depths of the paved road below.

I huffed.

Typical. From slightly pissed off bat out of hell, she could become the ever-so caring mother hen of the group. It's so sickening, I swear it's gonna rub off on me one day. But I was a fool myself. I could trust her with everything. She could peel me off like a hot potato, and I goddamned fell for it every time.

I looked at her sternly this time. "Promise you're not gonna laugh at me."

Rose got a little taken aback.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. What's on your mind?"

"You see I…" Oh geez, I'm gonna feel like a fool about this… "Does it get drafty here?"

Pursing her lips, she then answered albeit reluctantly. "Well, yeah. Depends on the weather. It could get pretty windy up here in the terrace."

"Well, I felt a cold draft swept in."

Her eyes went from "Oh God, this could be very scary," to "Are you serious?" in a flicking instant.

"No, no! It's not like that. It's…" Gosh, how do I put it… "It felt like it almost snowed here."

"Snowed? In the middle of summer?" She questioned. "I haven't heard of any cold front coming to the Bay Area lately."

"That's just it!" I protested. "It was so weird, but it felt like, it was _real_ , and then…"

I remembered there was a sudden chill in the air. It wasn't anything at all creepy. In hindsight, it was almost too soothing. It felt like I should enjoy a hot cup of cocoa with a blanket on and just stare at the landscape for hours. But that wasn't yet the weird part… or the weirder part. Anyway, it came after a few minutes or so, when I almost dozed off from the calmness in the air.

A faint whisper. No, wait. It wasn't like that. It was shouting. But it was so distant, like an echo in my mind. It was like they were calling for someone. A name. I closed my eyes, easing into the voice. It felt like it was a command. Like it wanted me to visualize a page in the book. It was trying to lure me somewhere I wanted to be.

Out of nowhere I hear clanging somewhere around me, like an epic battle came forth. It was still all in my head. Men clashing swords, steeds and riders called out to arms. It was in the midst of a big snowstorm. Battle cries clashed from the winds as it howled. So many voices. A whole lot of them. Then, there it was again. A name. It was all too familiar.

Then I realized it was mine.

A voice was calling out to me. In pain? In worry? I couldn't exactly distinguish. But there was raw emotion there. My heart was pounding to each and every beat of the war drums, the hallowed cries of battle. It was all too sickening, yet at the same time enticing. Voices echoed loudly this time, the tension rising, the rhythm becoming faster and faster.

It felt all too real. It suddenly felt like I was there. And then, and then…

I snapped back into reality. I immediately turned around, finding no one there. And that's when I realized that the coldness felt out of turn. I looked at my surroundings and there was no snow. Just, empty canisters and exhaust pipes. The cold still lingered, but then it slowly started to meld away. My senses slowly came to, and I felt the typical warmth of summer nights ought to be as I found myself in back at the top of a building with the faint sound of bass music far into the background.

That moment I felt, it was breathtaking. I was both scared and curious. It really felt like I was there. All it lacked was the visual. I didn't know what was happening at that time, but it felt like I could've gotten more if I leaned in further. And that's why I stayed. I waited for it again, curiosity piquing me.

"… It became super cold." Was all I could say after reminiscing.

Of course I didn't want to tell her all of that. She might think I was crazy. She was already suspicious of me when I escaped the party for some me-time, and, who would've really believed someone felt that moment of sensation once a breeze went by?

I think she would've though… But back then I knew to myself that it was just a hallucination.

"It became super cold?" She repeated a little blandly.

"Yeah. You know, the cold. Winter already passed. I missed it, so I stayed."

"Uh-huh."

She didn't believe me. That part I got right. Save for the fact that I suck at lying, I'm never the type of person to do this to her anyway. One thing I learned from her is that she's okay with letting things go.

"Well," She shrugged, raising her hands now in defeat. "If that's what you want, then whatever. I mean, who am I to argue?"

Aaanndd I was right again.

"Just come back to the party okay? Some of the folks are already missing you, weirdo."

"Yeah… yeah." I pulled out my solemn but honest smile.

She headed back towards the door. She did however, took one last glance back at me before she left.

Not a minute after, I decided to turn around and leaned towards summer air again, thinking back if I could somehow evoke that magical moment again.


	2. A Short Break

Chapter 2

A Short Break

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I snapped my head up.

I was looking at stern hazel eyes. It took me a couple seconds of recognition and then realized I was facing Torrhen, and from my peripherals, a couple of men trekking down the cobbled path. My bearings were a little frazzled from the slight daydreaming I had, and the people had actually stopped walking because my feet were planted on the ground.

"Are you okay, m'lady?" He said again. Or at least, that's what I thought he said the first time.

I stammered a response. "Y-Yeah, don't worry."

Starting to walk to an even pace again, I dismissed the conversation and lengthened my stride, picking myself up where I left off.

However, the flashbacks still came into mind. I've been having them recently; snippets of my past from another world that's been long forgotten. I didn't know if the Gods of this place were playing tricks on me by suddenly letting me reminisce of days old, because it never occurred to me even months after coming here. It felt uncomfortable, somehow even more than it should've been. I didn't know _what_ to do with these memories suddenly flung in my way… It never really did good to me in the first place.

Welp, in any case, we still have some adventuring up ahead, so I'll tackle that later on. It's been two weeks since we've left the company of the Stark bannermen. Only about a half day ago we crossed Moat Cailin, and to start things off, we had to find the nearest village after the cross. One of my _men_ (by the way, ever since this whole troop thing, I've slowly becoming accustomed to leading this kind of small troop, which was _awesome!_ ) visited the area a couple of months ago before the war. It was a good place to pack up supplies if supposed we're going ranging deep into the North. It readily had the stuff that we need; the ravenkeeper in our small group already sent one so that we could pack up and run before we could alert the presence of any nearby Houses.

Basically we had everyone who's capable of doing a small task force coup in any sort of activity. Be it travelling, hunting, maybe warfare here and there. The couple of guys who we're with were some of Robb's spies and soldiers who specifically joined me for this… mission? Not sure what to call it. But yeah, people.

Of course there were already Torrhen and Alton, whom I was already acquainted with. Two of them here were skilled hunters and herbalists; we haven't starved yet from the dozen or so rations we've picked up over the travels. There was the ravenkeeper, Dom, I recalled his name. He was the one that lets me send messages to Robb, even though I've never sent one yet.

The rest of them were farmers and villagers who had joined me because they believed in the cause I was fighting for. Like Warron. They were the ones who felt unaffected by my reputation amongst the others, so I was kinda relieved when that happened. And surprisingly, they actually could handle themselves well. Though I've seen some of them spar a time or two, but I knew then that they weren't ordinary men. They were really _good_.

Then, there's Torrhen. Well, he was the most badass of them all. I supposed that I should've known from the start since he was the son of a Lord in one of the major Houses, but he was good at managing the small group that we had. He knew when to stop to hunt for food, or when should we rest. He certainly had the knack of giving out orders, and he doesn't push us too hard if the situation calls for it. Maybe that's why he was placed as one of Robb's personal guards. He's most of the time stern and callous, but he was also meek and understanding. A feat that he may have copied from Robb when he took on the co-leadership role.

We were still marching somewhere between the Barrowlands up across Moat Cailin with thankfully uneventful days. There weren't really much except on the occasional passerby we've usually encountered, but that's pretty much it. I hadn't particularly hoped that something would've happened by now, as I try to avoid much of them as much as I can.

"We should rest for the moment." Torrhen called out into the group. I took a glance at the sky, sun was high up above, so it was probably noon.

Great, I was tired anyway.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one in the group who was. Somehow, they all sighed in unison and suddenly dropped all of their belongings when Torrhen issued the command. I chuckled when everyone of them found their own spot and rested for the meantime.

I found myself on a big ol' rock that I could sit on. When I settled myself, I began to massage my ankles a bit. The way Talisa showed me in case I've put on a bit of strain while walking. It felt good letting myself relax the muscles, and thankfully I was showing signs of progress. It naturally didn't hurt anymore, even after hours of trekking. The limping was still there, but only ever slightly a few days ever since I left.

I heard pebbles plopping in front of me. I looked up and saw the one and only blonde here in this group walking towards my way.

"Are you alright, my lady?" His voice was oddly low but smooth, almost as if resounding like most of the Lannisters, and yet, it was all too different than them at the same time.

All I could do was to reassure him with a smile. "I'm fine, Alton."

And then the last of the company was this guy. Obviously he was the black sheep of the herd, but quite frankly, he's the only one I trusted most. Alton was by far the most familiar out of everybody here, and Funny I said that to a Lannister, but he's one of the good eggs. Like Tyrion. A little bit soft and not so effed up than the main head of the family, he still carried that air of nobility in every conversation we had. Some say it was annoying, but for me it was very endearing. Kinda reminded me always that he was _very_ different in terms of personality from the rest of them.

Might be because of how Southern nobilities were raised. Ehh, I don't really know.

And much all the Lannisters, he had this innate knack of scrutinizing things. Again, he stared at me like I was a puzzle. Although I've gotten to know Alton for quite a while already, that's something that's always been bothering me from the start. I sometimes got the same foreboding eyes while Jaime tried to analyze me. It was still something that bothered me about him.

"I've noticed you were struggling a bit when you walk. Like there's a weight in your right leg. Are you… sure?" He then said.

"No, it's okay." I assured him, again. "It helps when I'm able to walk. It's just that sometimes I feel a little uncomfortable when we've actually gone for hours on end."

"I should go talk to Torrhen about it. We can't let—"

"It's fine, Alton." I sighed. Geez, his mother hen persona was more annoying than mine sometimes. "I'm _really_ not the type to be coddled on, so…" I then trailed off.

"If you're sure…" He then said. As if in thought, he paused himself until he spoke again. "You don't need to aggravate yourself, Rory. You're with company now. It's better if you tell us if something's burdening you."

"I'm fine, I really am."

If he analyzed that I had a bum leg, then I was grateful he mentioned it as discreetly as he can. Like I said, I was never the type to be coddled, and it'll only end up in me for ugly ways if ever there was a time that someone would try to challenge me for it.

"It's not fair, you know."

I was surprised at his words. I gaped there for a second until I was curious enough to ask.

"What is?"

"That, for a lady like you to undertake so much. Becoming advisor of Robb Stark and saving Renly Baratheon. You have also saved Robb's people from inciting a war with each other, and then now you are searching for the Stark children, in _exile_. You've already done such amazing feats for a person in one lifetime, and yet you continue to achieve more."

I didn't reply for a moment, but then I suddenly chuckled, not taking the speech as seriously as I could. "You make it sound like you're jealous."

"Been always in the shadows of great people, so I'm used to it, my lady."

I shook my head. "I'm not a lady."

"You are _called_ 'Lady' Fate, you know." A small smile crept on his lips.

There was a sullen pause and we've continued to stare at each other. A couple of seconds passed and we burst into a fit of giggles. Good gosh, I haven't laughed wholeheartedly in a good while. Even if his opinions still lingered in my mind. Thinking of it, I've never had a good laugh ever since I got myself off of the Wall…

Reminding myself of the times there made me melancholic all of a sudden, mellowing down the mood. Sadly, everything was short-lived, and I shook the thoughts away before anything could linger through.

"I've got to keep trying, Alton." I started, a ghost of a smile still on my lips. His Lannister green eyes again stared at me in attention. "Sure I've been doing these _crazy_ little things that you've mentioned, but the truth is, I really don't care about that. And I don't know if I got sent here for a reason, or maybe if it were a huge coincidence, but I have to keep doing it. Keep helping, however I can. These aren't just your lives at stake anymore, it's also mine. We all have to take part in this one way or another, and I want to make sure that everyone is safe and sound after the end of it all."

Alton paused in thinking. It took a couple of seconds befe he could even form up a response.

"I'm not sure if it's selfish, or if it's a reckless way of thinking, but it is admirable." He said. "I think that is why the men believe so much in you."

"And you don't?"

He smiled at that.

"No, yet I could certainly attest that I believe the most out of all of them."

My cheeks reddened and gave him a small grin. I wasn't able to say anything next because... well, I was stumped. I certainly didn't expect the chivalrous Alton would pop out of nowhere. Again, I've caught the fly that represented the finer details of this world, and it made his small gesture all the more special. He was too kind and honest, so rich with personality that it'd sucked that he was long gone so early from the original version of the story.

I remembered how he died in that cage. We didn't know Jaime would ever do that to one of his family, but he did. It was too gruesome to watch that part, and I looked away. In some ways, there was a deep hidden meaning somehow connected in that regard to where I was right now. We turned a blind eye to Alton and focused more on how Jaime was a douche, and he just disappeared in our memories forever.

We only knew so little of him. What he liked, what he didn't like. All of those little details that could've been told but were too engrossed on other things to pay attention. And now, thinking about all the others that died, it felt like they might even have some of their own stories to tell, and it didn't happen because we were all fighting someone else's war.

And sadly, they were all left unsaid.

This was why I was here. I wanted their stories to continue. All of the people who died for less, all of them that had so much to tell in their life— I want it to be told, and to tell it themselves. Even if it hurts my limb, even if I get exiled. All of the sacrifices that I've been through, it would've been for the greater good. Just knowing that they lived, and they lived happily after all of this.

"What's your favorite color?" I asked, only to find out that I _just_ crossed a forbidden path. Oh God. No. I did it. I chuckled awkwardly and dismissed the question. "Sorry, please don't answer that stupid question. I hate it, and so should you."

"Hm. How so?" He smirked. Of course that innocent son of a prick would be curious.

I sighed irritably. "It's just… I was thinking. Something about storing details."

"And what does it have to do with preference of colors?"

"You know, details. Like the word itself. A snippet in a story. I'd like to keep it in memory." I then shrugged. "Maybe I'll write a book someday. Just so everyone I knew wouldn't be forgotten, if they ever did."

A backup plan that I knew would somehow work. It won't include all the stories of _everyone_ , but at least to some that were important to me. At least they should know what I've gone through, and what other people around me have gone through. In that way, they wouldn't be forgotten.

Alton would never be forgotten again.

Thankfully, Torrhen had called out again to prepare ourselves for another long trek. My injured leg was well rested now, and I stood up without even seeking help from Alton, who also got up ways before I did and was almost up ahead with the others.

Before he turned his back towards me again.

"Brown. Like hazel or pinecones the spruce trees grow in our home. Just like y—" He wide-eyed and stopped. He then let out a low chuckle. "I apologize, I forgot I wasn't supposed to answer that."

I scowled at him, but he had already turned and placed himself over to the group. Eventually I joined with them and we continued our ways up to the North.

* * *

It had only come to attention a few months after (and this was not all during that time), when the memory resurfaced, of the realization when I hovered a hand over to my cheekbones, just under the surface of my eye.

My cheeks reddened in a burst of embarrassment.

"Cheeky little bastard."

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	3. A Village Of Snow And Ash

Chapter 3

The Village of Snow and Ash

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"Fancy m'self a bit of a rest. Can't say I've had m'head lie on a pillow for quite some time." One of the brothers said— didn't bother to distinguish who it was.

"Food and supplies. That's what I want. We've been slowly running out especially when Edbrand here missed those deer shots a couple' nights ago."

"Well, it wasn't for my fool of a brother not minding where his foot was and then snapping on a twig, we wouldn't have been."

Then mentioned brother chuckled. "You were only jealous because I caught that rabbit the moment you let it go and had your ass got stuck in the ground."

It was after the retort that sent the couple of men on a chorus of laughter. The frustrated brother elbowed his to the gut and sent him reeling. I wasn't able to control some of my escaped chuckle too, I know poor Edgard was the more patient of the two, but because of that embarrassing accident, his twin Edbrand would never let it go.

Alton was by my side, and he couldn't help grinning on the conversation he just overheard. Ever since we talked a couple of days ago, I started to notice that he hadn't left my side unless he really needed to. It felt slightly annoying at times, I have to admit, but I knew that he means well. Then again, I'm not so sure if Alton could even _talk_ to somebody else. I mean sure, he talks to Torrhen from time to time, but not often enough for anybody else to notice. So basically, most of the time he was either silent, or he was next to me, trying to open up any kind of starting conversation.

He opted to do the second one this time around.

When the ongoing ruckus went on in the background, he reeled his head on my ear. "What would _you_ do the first thing we reach into the village?"

"Oh I don't know… a bath? God knows I haven't taken a bath since ages." I merely shrugged. "And maybe one of those warm honeyed chickens. I heard it's a craze up here in the North."

"I'm thinking of creamy pumpkin soup." He mentioned.

"Hmm, also a fresh baked pie? I don't care what's on the inside, as long as I could eat the crust. I'm a crust person by the way."

"I'd also like a bath. Maybe I'd do both at the same time. I'll be eating that soup while I soak myself on that tub."

I laughed and it didn't take him long enough before he did too.

The wind bristled on the afternoon sun, and I felt it tousle against the scarf that was keeping me warm on the weather. I had a small lingering sentiment on those last days of autumn where the temperature was just cold enough that it could be reasoned as cozy, and I'm one of those persons that could just enjoy the rest of the day looking at the bystanders on my window.

I sighed from the nostalgia, looking over to my side again, only to find out there was no one. When I snapped my head back, I had seen that the men had theirs set on the gleaming horizon. The sun was already high up, and the sky was clear…

A dark thin line was trailing across the blue.

I went forward and pushed through the line of men. We stood at an overlook that we could see a great span of distance— on the tail end of it, was the village. My eyes grew wide as saucers.

The village. It was _already burned down_.

"I was informed by Robb that you knew how to wield a sword… Can you?"

I was stunned for a second, and then swung myself to the voice, seeing Torrhen beside me, but then I immediately got the point. Although if I thought about it, I don't think recalled telling Robb that I could, but the distraction and the worry got the better of me. All I could was bite my lip and nod.

"Then I believe you can have these back."

Torrhen unpacked his bag, the one that he was carrying, and untied it open. I was clearly surprised when the familiar black cloth revealed itself, covering up a sword and crossbow…

I gasped.

 _Moth._

"I'd totally forgotten about this." I whispered.

I... I never realized that I didn't ask for all of my equipment when I was still with Robb. I don't know, I guess it might have slipped my mind ever since that incident. Wow… did Robb kept all of this after all this time? When Torrhen gave it to me, I slowly traced the wood carvings and the eyespots, letting the moment sink in again for me.

"The village had already been ransacked, but there still might be a couple of stragglers. We still need to be careful if we go in there." Torrhen ordered.

Something got stuck in my throat and gulped.

"What does it look like? When did it happen?" Alton, now also on my other side, noted.

"I can't be sure yet, but by the looks of it, the signs looked like it was fresh." Torrhen answered. He then gestured with a hand to follow him, and we did. Coming back from the group again, I saw they were able to ready themselves as quick as they could. "The village could may have just been raided for all we know."

"Could they be… wildlings?" Alton then hesitatingly asked.

"They're way too far to be travelling south. But— no, we can't be too sure yet."

"Let's not waste time figuring it out here then; we need to move." I then said.

* * *

This was the first time I've ever seen a catastrophe on a live scale such as this. Words… words just couldn't put on how much I could describe this place. My heart, it yearned for them. For all of them. I couldn't believe that a person could do something this… horrendous.

Our company had just trotted down the first few homes, and everything around us were all covered in ash and smoke. We became silent. Torrhen didn't even give us any orders, he just silently nodded at the group and the men had already begun spreading out, covering the area. No sooner we began searching for any signs of life, but every house was either broken or burned down to the ground.

Not one person left alive.

Alton and I were teamed up together, and we've come across a small hut with cobbles for walls. It was sturdy enough to brave the sacking, but the straws on the roof were completely incinerated. Behind the home were broken wooden fences with blood trails. It must've been a farm by the looks of it. Going back, I tried approaching the fallen building.

"Careful," Alton warned.

I reached for the door, but it didn't budge when I tried to move it. There must've something that barred it from the inside. I called out to Alton for help, and he went to my side with his shoulders leaning against the door. The effort took a while though, and when the obstacle gave in, we stumbled inside. Wind blew in, and the dust on the ground billowed with its direction.

The home looked like it snowed from the inside. Yet it clearly isn't what it looked like. It was ash.

Alton noted the obstacle in the way were a box of crates, and he pushed it away so that he could let himself inside a little more. He also stared in awe when he observed the place.

"The people inside must've caved themselves in when everything started." Alton said.

I felt shaken to the core. This house… this home…

It didn't felt right going inside, 'cause I knew this house was another false promise. It's impossible someone could've survived in all this…

I looked for Alton, and saw that he was crouching down the ground. He seemed like he'd found something. He stood up again and turned around, holding an object in his hand. I recognized faintly that it was a doll made out of straws and rope. It was all too burnt and faded now. I almost felt the tears stinging my eyes again, but I willed myself not to. I went outside to take a breather, but the place still didn't escape from me when I saw the rest of it were all in the same state.

I could've imagined this place was a quaint little town. It might've not been the most reputable out of all of them, but it was a place that could thrive for what it's worth. They weren't the bustling kind, but I could assume they were at least hospitable from all the strays and wandering travelers that goes on about their journey. There were farmers, smiths, tanners, midwives and children— all of the sort you could think of. Living out here was as simplest as it could be. The war may have not looked kindly upon them, but I suppose they've somehow managed to thrive.

Until now.

Another moment of silence crept on. I just stood there and cradled the doll on my arms. I was just there, fixated, not even wanting to fathom the gloom and dismay that surrounded this place.

"The war didn't bring this to them, Alton… It hurts seeing such a place like this..."

"I've hear rumors about pillaging in the North, but I also didn't expect it to be _this_ dire." He whispered, also sounding at a loss.

"I didn't either. It's just… I don't understand it, all this cause for unnecessary killing…"

"It doesn't bode well for me also, my lady."

Sighing, I turned around and headed towards the front of the house again. I paid my respects and closed the door lightly. On the foot of the door I knelt down on the pebbles and lain there the doll. I sat there a little while longer, looking at the small object and offered another moment of reticence.

"Why don't we go check on the others now? I don't want to stay in this place anymore." I then said, finally getting up.

"I suppose we should." He nodded.

~o~

"Anyone found anything?" Torrhen looked at the faces of the pairs one by one. Each one starting from the left came up with nothing. When Torrhen finally faced us, I only just shrugged and shook my head. The rest also claimed no trace, except for the last pair.

One of our rangers was holding out a shield, half-cracked, with a heraldry on it. He seemed unsure what to actually do and what to make out of it.

"I found this on one of the dead men. Could prove useful."

We all huddled together when Torrhen received the broken shield. Ashen lain on the surface, and Torrhen scrubbed it off with his arm.

An upside down symbol of a kraken.

I gasped.

"Those Greyjoy dogs…" One of the men growled.

"How did they veer way down this south?" Another one piped in.

Dom wondered. "Probably went to Moat Cailin by now."

"But we just passed by Moat Cailin! We didn't see anyone when we went down that road." Edbrand clamored.

"You daft, brother? We did not went by Kingsroad— there was another route that we travelled during our way here." Edgard now intervened.

"Then we should go back. Let us also take back that castle and avenge our fallen brethren!"

" _No._ "

Everyone looked at me.

My face was stern and I was full-blown serious. Although deep inside I felt concerned for them. It was pointless, fighting. Not with everything I've only just seen. I don't want any more underhanded sacrifices for the sake of revenge. It's just adding up fruitless numbers in the process.

"Did every one of you see all of the dead in this place? Do you want to become part of them? I don't know about you guys, but I _don't_. I don't want you going about your wiles just for your own little vengeance, 'cause remember the oath I swore to you all? 'When worse comes, I will never forsake all of you, and I will value your lives as if it were mine,' yeah I remembered that. And so help me, I'll smack all your heads together with a thousand-paged book with those words on it just for all of you to see sense."

My breathed heaved as everyone started at me, flabbergasted. Everyone fell silent at that. I was mad, particularly pissed off at the thought of it.

"She's right," Torrhen spoke against the terse silence. "We'll certainly won't do anything if we don't have careful planning. Also, we have our duty to fulfill with the King— and that is to follow the wishes of our lady here. If we forsake that, then we're no less honorable than those Greyjoy cunts."

Some of them snarled in assent. It seemed like what Torrhen said somehow lifted their spirits up, and I couldn't help but smirk at their response.

"But what about the villagers here?" Warron spoke out of the blue. "We can't just abandon them…"

I stopped, regaining some sort of cognition back. He's right. What happened to these people deserve at least some sort of redemption. Maybe not the slaughtering kind but…

"What do you suggest then, my lady?" Torrhen interrupted.

"I don't know. We shouldn't just run at them without some kind of plan. What _I_ suggest is that we should think about it in the meantime." I then pursed my lips. Strangely, I found my head wandering over our group, and it made my insides quiver with all of the doom and gloom surrounding the place. "Can we at least get out of this place first? I think I've had enough of this place right about now."

"I know of a place. We could stop by there if you'd like, my Lady." Dom, our ravenkeeper, suggested. "You might not like the sight of it though."

Curious, I had to know what he was planning. "Where?"

A wry smile formed on his lips. "Winterfell."

* * *

Our stay at the village was rather short-lived. We only spent the rest of the day burning and burying the dead, but come morning the next, we already had our bags up and started to ventured forth. From once a couple weeks' worth of travelling now extended into more, we really had no choice but to gain our passage to another possible route, because coursing through Kingsroad suddenly became dangerous and it would cost us much if things would get awry.

I've got to send a letter to Robb soon so I could explain to him what had happened. I have a feeling that he wouldn't like it. No. I'm sure he wouldn't like the news. He would be disappointed, but I know he wouldn't be mad. One thing that's more comforting about all of this was that Robb, especially with the change, he had been more receptive over everything that's recently thrown at him. Hope it would stay that way so we could avoid that trouble.

Robb had direr matters to attend to anyway. With the whole Renly being alive, the whole war had taken a serious steer on the road with seeking revenge against the Lannisters into now rescuing the Tyrells, and it may also lead into one of the many unknowns I'm worried about after saving Renly Baratheon. It's just the matter of time to know what outcome would happen and I can assess if it's good or bad.

So now, I have my bearings again. I knew what path I'm going to take this time around, and hopefully this goes as well as I've hoped to.

"We should be careful, my Lady." Torrhen spoke up while we now started on the road again. "After the sacking of Winterfell, we have not received any news from what state it's in now."

"Do you think it is abandoned?" Warron remarked. "I've only heard a few rumors in passing. Winterfell's not the best place to be right now if they were true."

"What happened to it, anyway?" Alton piped, although it garnered looks from few of our members. "I-I mean, I know your Young Lord took over while your King was away… and with the Greyjoys… I take it that they usurped the Starks and…?" He trailed off.

The chilling silence continued. Nobody answered. I breathed a sigh and turned to face him while walking.

"They did. But it wasn't what it looked like. There was no hostile takeover. Not when Theon 'took over' per se, but it was after that. I guess with all the show he'd put on, it'd stabbed him in the back when he was already biting more than he could chew." I explained.

Though judging from the confused look in their faces, it seemed like I needed to provide a little more.

"I'm not making any sense am I?" I cleared my throat. "Okay, first off, Theon was in a wrong place at a wrong time, in a wrong condition. Yes, he _did_ take over Winterfell, but Bran wouldn't give it up his Lordship, which complicated things. He later discovered that the two Stark brothers escaped, and not knowing what to do, tried to cover it up by spreading rumors that they were dead."

I noticed some of the men had their brows raised at the remark. Yeah, Bran and Rickon are alive, folks. Everything that they fed you was all just a ruse.

"That's when Robb asked the ravenkeepers to spread ravens all over the North." Dom added.

My eyes glinted there for a second. A hunch that I shelved long ago was answered. This basically means that my attempt on telling Robb spread the forces around— and not just the Boltons— to rally and take back Winterfell was a success. It also means that it could be that the Boltons weren't the ones who captured Theon, but practically a different house instead.

"My presence in this might have altered it a bit, but if I remember correctly, Theon would eventually feel the downfall of his plans, and he got captured by the Boltons." I stated, but paused. "At least, that's how it's supposed to go."

"The Boltons wage off to war with the King in the North. How come Roose could be capable of such a task?" Warron asked.

"He is," I then said. "Roose Bolton had another son."

"A son? But the Bolton line had staved off once his firstborn died." Warron then replied. I stayed silent, not really wanting to explain to him the details, only to look at Torrhen— who was looking at me, as if he was also thinking the same thing. "You mean…"

Go figure. Although, I wouldn't really blame anyone if they didn't know it. Some of the people on the group were only humble villagers, and information, so they say, was way more privileged back then.

Torrhen cleared his throat. "For those who don't know, Roose Bolton had a bastard child. I'm fairly certain that he's the last blood of the Bolton line."

I stopped walking. Since I was in front, everybody behind fell through. I turned around to look at them in the eyes.

"What happened to Theon… things went horrible for him."

I can still recall that particular episode where he was first captured. I remembered because that was the time when I was free and have planned some snacks to go along with watching. Popcorn and all. Until said scene appeared, halfway through the show, I had already abandoned all pretenses of eating when I watched that scene altogether.

"He was tortured and beaten. Even if he didn't have any information to give. Roose's son Ramsay, practically enslaved him from then on." I continued.

"But torture is frowned upon in the North. Why didn't the King know of this?" Torrhen then questioned.

"I'm trying to avoid that." I replied sternly. "Look, whatever the case may be, the Boltons have a considerable army that Robb can still use. If he'd caught on with this and knew that the Boltons _might_ be betraying him, then it's gonna be a helluva trouble. Even if you say there is Renly, it's still everybody's war. I want to avoid people turning coats, even with the Boltons, as much as I'd like to know that Robb can still win this."

"Yet you've mentioned that things have already changed." Alton commented, informting the others about the current situation in Westeros. "Do you think the outcome of Theon had changed by your presence?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'm not sure. For all we know, we might see another House that's taking care of Winterfell, or Wildlings, just for the heck of it."

"You mean you don't know what's going to happen when we arrive there?" Torrhen asked again skeptically.

"It's… complicated." I pursed my lips and ducked down. "The future isn't set as stone as it was before I came around and changing things…"

Admitting this again shook me a bit. It felt like it was the whole Margery kerfuffle all over again. I didn't like the feeling that they depended on me too much. It's something that I never was comfortable to begin with in the first place.

"Well… we'd best hurry and find out." Torrhen simply stated before he started trudging on.

I nodded and followed his direction. There was no talk since after, mostly just banter and idle conversation for the rest of the trip. Meanwhile, I was just silent and didn't bothered joining in. It made me think about our situation now and how it would affect the rest of this journey. Basically, with no Robb, I'm practically blind with all of the possibilities that could happen. It's just like any other event now, and I'm no future-sensing mogul that can help out everyone. Not that I could see the future anyway, but that's one edge that I wouldn't be using for what I'm guessing a long time from now.

And in some sense, I'm more afraid now of my future and what could happen more than before.

* * *

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	4. Back To Winterfell

Chapter 4

Back to Winterfell

* * *

Okay. Just breathe, Rory. You've got this.

"Winterfell, up a distance." Someone called out, I didn't really rule out who it was.

Yep, I could see the castle looming from far off the field, and it looked… well, it looked the same the first time I visited it, but there's just something nagging on the back of my mind that throwing me out of the loop. It's like there's something missing, and I couldn't point out what it was.

Strange thing was, I didn't feel nervous at all going back. It just felt like it's one of the regular things that I should be doing. Changing plots, saving the world. And now, it made me feel uncomfortable thinking about revisiting some old castle. Sure, I know I'll have a lot of reminiscing moments that will run through my head, but was it really necessary to be _this_ agitated on this certain level?

I know for a fact that there'll be no Bran or Rickon to greet us, just probably the abandoned keep with everything almost destroyed. And I had anticipated that.

I couldn't really compare anything that came close to the worry levels I'm having now…

… Was it because that I might be going somewhere closer to the Wall?

… No.

I've got to stop overthinking things.

"You alright?" Alton appeared on my side, facing me. Thank goodness. I needed something to flush the nerves out.

"Just a little antsy," I replied.

He nodded, pursing his lips and turning his head towards the direction of the castle again. A silent moment had passed when we walked, until he again spoke out of the blue.

"I've never been this far out North before." He then said.

Okay, a conversation-starter. I'm practically open to anything right about now.

"You've ever travelled?" I asked, trying to focus on him as much as I can for now.

"Not as much as I'd like to gloat." He smiled, wondering something in his mind. "My whole life before the war pretty much consists of bouncing back and forth Lannisport and King's Landing."

"Oh, well," I was anticipating that he would tell a few passionate stories about his travels. Unfortunately, he didn't even have one to tell. "If it's any consolation, I've never been to King's Landing before."

The was a chuckle he caught in his lips. "'Tis no surprise. I'm probably the only person in this group who might've ever went there…" A slight pause caught on the midst of the conversation. "Have you been to any of the tourneys?"

I gave him a sarcastic look.

"Apologies, I keep forgetting you're not from around here." He then said, the small grin still etched on his face. "You'll love it though, all the matches and merriment. I'm sure it covers the same excitement as adventuring."

"I'm sure it is," I replied with the same energy he had. Alton looked at me as if he wasn't convinced, and it earned him a slight bump on the shoulder. "What, I am! It's just… well, it's not like I've seen firsthand some 'handsome' men mad dashing on a horse with a fancy pogo stick."

He thought of something for a second. "I've never jousted before."

My grin fell. "Wait, what?"

When I turned to face him, Alton had tipped his head up, looking at the gloomy sun covered by hazy clouds. He looked a bit disappointed to himself; his eyes were crinkling in an awkward way, yet his hopeful smile had stayed beneath the conversation.

"I thought you told me you entered in multiple tourneys before?" I asked.

"I did, but never jousting. Just the occasional melee." He replied.

"You mean like the one-on-one sword-fighting thing?"

"Usually, yes. But I could participate on something else if I feel like I'm up for it. There are plenty of events besides those two. One is archery, another horse-racing, and then there're weapon-throwing. Jousting are held for main events, and where more esteemed families prefer to participate. Or for those who consecutively win throughout the events. A championship for champions I suppose."

"And you never made it through _any_ of them?"

This I was assuming because he mentioned that he was doing a lot of tourneys for years. I couldn't even fathom how many tries he'd gotten and he still never had gotten to the main event. Something I wouldn't expect, even for someone as competitive and driven as a Lannister.

"Some, yes. But I always lose over some knucklehead with plenty of coin to spare and lackeys with an arm that can bruise if they don't get what they want."

"You mean that they bribed you into losing? Geez, that's pretty low."

"It's not as harsh as you'd think. I'm lucky enough that I even _get_ invited through the tourneys. These events cost a fortune, you know." He explained solemnly. I only bit back with a snort, but he continued mulling over. "I don't get by as much, and you know my side of the family is drowned in debt because of my father. I'd rather pass a day with food and water on the table than living in glory, starving."

Hm. He _did_ make a point there. Still, it was a waste seeing what could be his potential. He was a Lannister after all; could be the next Jamie for everyone's guess… without all stuff that he did. Anyway, though I've never seen Alton in battle-mode (hopefully never), I'm pretty sure he's good with the sword for all he was boasting.

"Well, I'll just make sure your next tourney entry will be on me then, free of charge."

"R-really?" He blinked like he caught a deer in the headlights.

"Yeah. Why not? I'm sure I could pull a few strings." I shrugged. Provided that the two best strings I have were Robb and Renly.

"That…" I turned to glare at him before he could say anything else, the worry in his face had instantly dissipated. "That would be great, my lady." Alton waivered, and in a small moment, curved his lips into a virtuous smile.

"There you go," I said, reflecting back the smile that he had. "And if someone tries to pay you to have you beat, I will personally put a stick up their asses so they know who exactly they are dealing with."

And then he laughed. "That would be a sight to see."

In all honesty, I think I've never seen someone so starry-eyed over something so short of a promise before. He looked, way too thankful, as if he never received any kind of gratitude before. The way his eyes were gleaming at the imagination of going through another tourney. It's really something special for him, isn't it? A promise that he could once again participate in another event without ever worrying about some shady _knucklehead_ like he mentioned.

That made him a bit more comfortable, and in turn, made me feel a little better as well.

The towering fortress didn't look as intimidating now as I thought it would be.

"You feeling better now, my lady?" Alton then inquired.

"Yes, thank you, Alton." I beamed.

Whatever happens now, I have to make the most out of it. All of the promises I'm intending to keep, I won't let them be forsaken.

* * *

The village surrounding Winterfell wasn't at all decrepit as I thought it would be. To think that the news of it being sacked and pillaged being terrible was just short of an understatement. When we arrived, the houses were still intact, but it definitely showed signs of ash and scorch marks beneath the snow. I'd expected something way worse; could it be that my presence had somehow altered the fate of the castle?

"This… isn't right." I mumbled.

Torrhen was next to me and answered. "I've heard reports of a sacking… Were they not true?"

Thankfully we spotted a villager not far off, and he had seen us arriving. He had tresses of white hair that fell through his back and his eyes were a simple hue of brown. He was also wearing a traditional villager-type of wardrobe… and wasn't at all familiar in anyone I've remembered, so I figured he might've not been important.

"Dare I say that Winterfell can offer only a little amount of food and wares on your journey, travelers." He'd spoken in a generous bow once we approached.

When we grew to travelling, I had known to put up the old trick of 'scarfing my mouth', so to speak, kinda like the olden days from when I was way back in the Wall. The same trick that guised myself like the men so it would look like any other travelling group. The only compromise was that I wouldn't be able to lead the group publicly, just so we wouldn't raise any suspicions. With a target on my back and a decree for me being banished, we couldn't really go unto main roads, or talk to some of the passerbys along the journey.

Thus, we decided that Torrhen would be temporarily calling the shots whenever I couldn't be of use.

"We came the bearing of the Starks," Torrhen marched towards the front of the group and pulled out the silver wolf emblem. The villager's eye grew like saucers and only bowed respectfully. "We've come to see the state of the castle."

"Then I regret to tell you that no lord has manned the lands for weeks now. Not since our youngest Lord…" He then trailed off.

Disappeared. Bran wasn't dead yet. Or at least, that's what I wanted to say. But they didn't know, like Robb didn't know back during the original course of the events. This time it's different. Because of the letter Robb gave me, all of us knew that Bran and Rickon were still alive, and it was up to us to find them. Nobody who's not important doesn't know about it, though I think it's better that the masses didn't know anything regarding Bran's state. Just to make sure that he's safe regardless of the changes I made.

"We've heard news of Winterfell. We thought it was abandoned due to... recent events," Torrhen carefully stated.

"No, m'lord. The Greyjoys indeed had taken over, but there was aid, and they were driven away. From the men who stayed from the war."

We all looked into each other. So it _is_ true. What remained of the people in the North have pitched in to retaking Winterfell. Another miniscule event had changed, and I feared that small change this might spiral into something else later on.

"Do you know the people who helped?" Torrhen then asked.

"Oh, they're from all over the place. Men with swords and banners different from each other. I'm familiar with a few of them… I know there was House Cerwyn, and House Hornwood and… Ah, I'm sorry m'lord, I know not the rest."

Torrhen sighed. "Can you at least remember the bearings on them?"

"Yes, of course. One was… a sun. It was white. Then there was a crossed chain. There's also a gloved fist…"

One of the banners he mentioned was that of the Karstarks. I was looking at Torrhen throughout the conversation, but his reaction to the news told me that he also didn't have a clue what was going on.

"… Oh, and the strangest one was an upside down man in black and red background."

Holy shit.

Oh God, maybe this was the cause of concern that was nagging inside me this entire time. The mere mention of _that_ had me reeling over all the memories that I knew already. Shit. I _knew_ it. Somehow, someway that the storylines are still connected. That the Boltons might still slither their way up into these events.

And I should've spotted it coming from a mile away.

Stupid Rory.

"House Bolton," Torrhen murmured. "Where are all of them now?"

"They have all but returned. Some of them still do come from time to time, to check on the repairs, but they have not seen to the majority of the castle itself out of respect to the Starks."

Torrhen responded with a simple nod. The villager then told him that the keep was free for recluse, since they saw the other Lords coming and going inside often. It was dull conversation after that. No sooner we were all marching down the stone-paved street, observing the place and checking condition of the village before the keep.

In a way, the doom and gloom had not shied away from Winterfell, but it wasn't as much as compared to what we've seen a few days ago. The people here were alive and well, and some had even come out of their houses to share a few glances at us. I remembered the first time I came here and I knew to myself that Northerner's weren't an observant bunch, but I guess they just seemed… just a little too curious this time around. Maybe it's just because that we had the Stark emblem pinned to our cloaks.

And so we marched on in uncomfortable silence, and from the once great gates that I remembered, we had entered the hold of Winterfell itself. Unlike the village below, the castle itself was barren and desolate. Compared to the few villagers who we've noticed earlier, the courtyard that we'd entered had none. When I was here, I remembered there were men and women littering all over the place.

Now there was nothing but abandoned stables, empty alcoves and merlons in every side of the keep.

We walked slowly, passing by a hangman's stage with two nooses cut messily. I shuddered at the thought of anyone going through that, so I immediately turned to where we were heading. Once we were inside the castle itself, it came to no surprise that it was also empty; save for tossed tables and broken glasses.

Some of the walls have been dilapidated and the Wolf banners that hung from the ceiling were either scraped in half or thrown into the ground like a rug. There were growing layers of dust settling over the tables that were still standing, but it also meant that it's been sometime since these objects have been touched.

The melancholy was strong in this place. I also recalled that I got lost in these very halls, sneaking my way through some boneheaded guards just so I could speak to Bran. Funny part was, when I _had_ spoken with him, he believed in every word I said about Robb and even gave me supplies for the ride down south. Plus the small token he had pinned on my cloak without my knowing. That little thing had changed my whole credibility in this story. And look at me now, leading an entire group of men, trying to find out what to do with the mess going around North, and being finally back in this place all over again.

"Robb's not gonna like it when he sees what they've done to the place," Torrhen wondered aloud.

"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind if we settled here for a bit. I'll probably write to him once were done unpacking," I said.

Torrhen tipped his head in response. "C'mon. If I remember correctly, I should know a place where we could stay."

He led us into a series of hallways, all of which seemed very familiar. Same conditions apply to the very first room that we entered. Burnt torches, dusty floors, broken furniture… Honestly, the place was a complete mess. I'm not sure the point of this whole ordeal was if they simply want to piss off Robb thinking they could lure him back here.

Eventually Torrhen had found a place for us to settle in. It was a moderate-sized room that could fit a dozen or so people. It may have resembled a barracks of some sort— inside the keep by the way… maybe it was for the guards? — anyway, the double-decker beds that was fortunately saved from all the mess suited perfectly for us, in so that it could accommodate the entirety of our group.

A few minutes have already passed and I was in the middle of unpacking my clothes when Torrhen approached me.

"Winterfell is currently unmanned and does not have a lord," He first said, to which I snorted at him while I folded my clothes.

"D'you think I could sit on that fancy throne of Robb's while he's gone?" I snickered, although thankfully he didn't need a lecture on sarcasm as he already caught the whiff of it.

"All of the mess here in Winterfell, did it all happen in one of your visions?" Trailing off, he paused and stared at me, trying to gauge something at the topic.

"Uhm, I think so?" I shrugged noncommittally. "Of course there are things that _have_ been changed recently, and the outcome had been different than what had _really_ happened. So right now, it's anyone's guess."

"Hm," He thought aloud. "The villager mentioned that my family aided with the effort. Let's see what my father and Karhold knows of this and we'll try to go from there."

"Okay, let's start with that."

Well, with all of the questions that have been boggling me since we arrived, at least we're now heading somewhere. These strange occurrences that happened in Winterfell wasn't settling on my nerves pretty well. I mean, I'm glad that a lot of the people were alive and all, but, why was Winterfell the only target here? And why didn't anyone stand up and took rein of the place after the recapture?

I sighed, stopping my ministrations and stared at the still unfolded cloth in front of me.

Perhaps some rest would do me some good. We've been travelling for weeks now, and this was the only stop we did with a bed ever since we crossed Riverrun. I'm tired, and the problem ain't gonna solve itself overnight. I'm sure some of the questions would be answered anytime soon.

Hopefully.

* * *

 **A/N: Of course I had to post a new chapter after the finale, though the chapter is not as mind-blowing as the episode, it's progress ! :3**

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	5. Snow's End

Chapter 5

Snow's Rest

* * *

Turns out, I didn't even have the urge to sleep.

I didn't bother myself staying on the barracks for very long, we just packed our stuff together and by nightfall, the rest of the group had already fallen asleep after a very long day. I had tried to sleep too, but I knew that it wouldn't come to me anytime soon. I was too distracted staring at the dancing lights of the torches that hung upon the wall, or hearing the faint snores coming from the other beds. My mind was utterly at a buzz; I felt so restless that I needed to do something.

So without hesitation, I had flung the covers, wrapped my cloak and left the room without a single peep.

Strolling along the halls didn't brought me the same fascination and intrigue as I had the first time I visited the place. Everything about this place felt so hollow and empty. Cliché as it might sound, everything looked literally like a shadow of its former glory.

I climbed up a few stairwells, wandering aimlessly throughout the castle. Until I finally reached outside.

The battlements of the keep were slightly creepier during the dark. Everything from where I'm walking to all the merlons I've passed, were all solid stone. The marbles were cold to the brim, even when I was wearing my gloves, but I still trailed my fingers along while I crossed the walkway.

As I passed by the flickering torches, the shadows that conjured up became a little more obscure; as if the flames were forming an unrecognizable angry creature. I hugged myself tighter from the inner paranoia that was brewing through my head.

The whole place was eerily silent, up to the point that ghosts popping out of nowhere couldn't be more of a possibility right now. I mean, compared to walking around the Wall, all you could hear was the wind howling at you, but at least you'll occasionally meet one or two people during your rounds. Winterfell looked like everyone had popped out and ran someplace like it became haunted all of a sudden.

Thankfully though, before anything crept out of the darkness, I've spotted a small huddle of people forming just below the courtyard. Huh, Guess I wasn't the only one who felt a little uneasy staying at the bunker this time of the night.

"M'lady."

Ohfreakingsonofagunholybullets.

My spirit would've left me and jumped over the battlements from the surprise I just had. Luckily, I just had an ounce of drive enough to calm myself and have a look at the ghost-intruder.

… Oh.

It was only Warron.

"Jesus H., you scared the crap out of me," I breathed in between my fear spurts.

"Many apologies. Lord Karstark asked me to find you when he saw that you weren't on your bed," He bowed apologetically.

"Well, I'm already here. No need to make a fuss out of it."

Another curt nod as he retreated slowly. "I'll send word—"

"No, wait," Did I sound too dismissive? I shook my head and sighed. "Is it okay if you keep me company for a while? I'm… not so comfortable staying here alone."

His good eye seemed to have calculated something, but he only bowed for the third time. "As you wish, m'lady."

I gave him a small smile, and waved a hand. "Please, just Rory."

He was almost about to bow, but thought the better of it. Even _he_ found it slightly annoying doing it so repetitively. But of course, the awkward silence ensued. I knew he wasn't going to say anything else, and I just _had_ to be the one to bring up the ice-breaker for this dying conversation.

"So, you and your father lived in a small village... Snow's Rest, if I remember?" I opened up.

"Aye," He muttered with a thankful sigh, and then continued. "Quite a bit of distance here from Winterfell. Along the western edge of Wolfswood. Been livin' quite peaceful huntin' animals for skins. Thought my life would wound up that way forever."

Huh. I remembered once he shot an arrow in about a hundred yards, and when we got there, he caught a rabbit just when he was about to get into a hole. We celebrated like a new king had been crowned and ate it for dinner afterwards.

"And you could do it with just one good eye," I noted, feeling a little curious. "Did you lose it before or during..?"

Warron stilled for a second, and then his gaze distanced elsewhere. I pursed my lip as I felt that I may have offended him, and I almost opted to change the topic until he leaned into the brick stone.

"I've never aimed my arrow at a human before. Not until the war," He first said, raising his hands up towards the back of his head. He then fumbled into untying the cloth bandage next. "It's always been animals. It made me realize that men different, knowing that they could fight back with less hesitation."

He revealed the scar of his eye, a diagonal dark-red gash that slanted from his eyelid to the other side of his upper cheekbone on the left side of his face. His auburn bangs had mirthlessly tried to hide the angry mark, but unfortunately to no avail. It made me wince at his figure, but I knew I had to control the urge before it ever showed on my face.

"Shot a soldier once. The enemy line had broken into the flank and we had no choice but to deal with 'em," He started, a tone so low as if he was telling a ghost story. "Arrow went through the plates that covered his shoulder, but it wasn't enough to knock him over. In a couple o' moments, he pulled it out as if it was just some annoying thorn and charged straight at me. He got his dagger out and then…" He then waved his hand in a slanting motion.

"And how'd you manage to survive?"

"Another soldier got into the nick of things and pierced his skull before he could've finished what he'd started."

This time, I definitely grimaced. _Ouch_.

Even then, thankfully his sight was still preserved. Looking at him now, it may not be much, but at least it was a relief that there's no more harm done to him than I could've ever dreaded.

"That's when you stopped and came to _this_ ," I nodded to the group of men below us who were sitting quietly by a fire.

"When Torrhen approached me? No," He shook his head, bemused. "Torrhen came to me two battles after that."

I was taken aback, brows furrowed in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"My first battle was when I lost my eye. Fortunately, they didn't take away the one that aims," He winked his good eye, one side of the lip curled upward. "They still figured I was still a good shot, and they sent me to another one. And then another."

"Why didn't you stop, then?"

"My father was still fighting in the war. I couldn't just leave him."

I simply nodded at his answer. I understood what he meant by that. I mean, if it were me, I wouldn't want to leave _my_ father if I knew that he was still in the middle of it all. That's just how strong family bond goes through winter blood, I guess. Yet, oddly enough, it felt like fate played still had to play some part in unraveling the latest chapters of his story.

The queasy feeling sunk into my stomach again, remembering his father's last few moments. We've already gone past that and I knew that I needn't mention it again. But still, I couldn't help but be reminded just by knowing his story and everything he'd gone through. For him to be in a position that you can't really help, but you know you have to push on regardless of the outcome.

An awkward pause again formed in the air. I could've wished for chirping of crickets by now but even they couldn't be found in a place like this.

"Enough about my story. I wouldn't want to open old wounds that had already happened." He then dismissed the conversation altogether.

I guess by my silent reaction that he noticed the conversation was going nowhere at this point. There was already nothing we could do about it and saying "sorry" ain't going to fix things for the better anyway. Probably best to just leave it at that.

I turned my head around and looked over the courtyard again. The men were having their own campfire stories as I heard muffled sounds over where I was. Every single one of them listening intently to the speaker, I think it was Jorrel who was talking.

"Hey Warron, what can you tell me about all of them? Do you happen to know their stories? Are they as strong and as tough as you?" I spoke in a quiet but casual tone, curiosity piquing a bit. It wasn't really loud enough to bring attention them down below the whole place, but enough to turn Warron's head beside me.

"I'm not so sure if I'm the best one to answer that, m'lady Rory," He said, and then facing back to the group. "However we are loyal, we're yours and you could use us however you see fit."

I snorted. "You make me sound like I'm Katniss Everdeen," He gave me a brow, and I just shrugged. "I mean, I don't want to treat all of you like you're something dispensable, you know. I'm no big hero that you need to sacrifice yourselves for the sake of the greater good."

"The people _have_ faith in you, Rory."

I paused. "A lot of people have faith in me, but I'm not even sure if I could even deliver…"

When I looked at him, I found out that his gaze had found its way back over the distance again.

"In times of need, people clung to a belief not because they are desperate, but because it can give them hope," He first said. "Some of them believe in the youngest Baratheon's ambition, some in Robb's. Some of us believe in yours."

I let the thought sink into me. It was often I had doubts, but it was relieving that people around me can still assure me out of it. And every time I start to notice that it wasn't just one person. It wasn't just Jon who did all the comforting. It wasn't just Robb, nor it wasn't Alton. It's a different person every single time. I'm still processing on how much I could bring influence into this world; everything still felt as surreal as day one, and sometimes, I just don't know which path I'm going to take. But little things such as these, could somehow make me better in an instant.

"I thought I was the one being all wisdom-y at this point," I then smirked.

"Even a lowly villager like me has something to say about the world. I suggest you take that thought into consideration, m'lady." He grinned, eventually tying back the cloth on his eye again.

"And I would _love_ to see you guys stopping it with the 'm'lady' thing," I bit back with a retort.

He only shrugged and then bowed for the final time. "I'm afraid I'm taking too much of your time already. I'll be going back to Torrhen and tell him you're okay."

"Actually," I stopped him before he could leave. I think I have a better idea for this.

"Could you tell me where Torrhen is right now?"

* * *

After going down and went through a series of hallways, I had finally reached where Warron pointed out to me. The door to the small room was open, and a lampshade was silently flickering on the inside. When I peeked through, I saw a rather lonely space with just a bed and a table, and sitting there with a quill was Torrhen, with his back against me.

I wasn't sure if he'd notice my coming, but altogether I rapped the door to let him know I was there. He eventually turned around, and his eyes grew slightly, obviously expecting someone else.

"Rory. I didn't know you'd come," He stood up but I then gestured at him to sit back down.

"Kinda unfair letting me share bunkbeds with a dozen men, and you're the one sleeping in a private room," I eased just outside the door instead and leaned on the frame, commenting light-heartedly on the idea that just formed on top of my head.

"Oh no, milady. I only used this room to do writing. For a letter." He cleared his throat. "It's quieter here."

I turned my head on the piece of scroll half-written on top of the table, and then faced him again. "Is that the one you mentioned for your family?"

"Aye," He said. "Figured I'd get it done now so I could send it right away."

I nodded silently but didn't come up with anything to say for the next couple of seconds. My eyes wondered around the place, forcing myself to think of something else, but the room was just so dull. It's really just that, a table, a bed and a lamp. No ornaments to even mention of for crying out loud.

Figuring there's really no end to this, I just had to get straight to the point then.

"So, Warron said you wanted to see me?"

"I asked that simply because we wanted to check on you," He answered. "You weren't on your bed when I came to the room, so I sent Warron to find out where you were."

"Oh," I replied lamely. "Uhm, I guess I couldn't sleep. I just went up for a walk to clear my head. That sort of thing."

"Just don't make a habit out of it," He said bluntly. I was caught in a surprise by the remark. "You are still the lady of the hour and everything were doing right now— finding the Stark siblings, figuring out what happened in Winterfell— will be for nothing if something ever happened to you."

My forehead creased for just about a second, and thought the better of sassing him back why walking around Winterfell could be one of the most dangerous things I've ever done in my life. But arguing isn't really going to get anyone anywhere. Especially when a person's tired but couldn't go to sleep.

"Fine. I'll make sure to tell someone if I needed to go somewhere."

"Thank you." Clearly he was surprised by my reaction, and so then he cleared his throat as an admission to change the topic. "I know my reasons why I'm still up in the later hours of the night, what say about yours? Certainly it couldn't be about the condition of Winterfell."

I sighed, moving from the door and then sat on the bed. My hands were clamped together as I faced him. "It's just not that. I mean, we're gonna know what happened as soon as we ask people around, but I'm worried about another thing," I breathed out another sigh again before continuing. "It's Robb."

I could've sworn I saw his eyes glint for a split second, as if there was a tension had been built somewhere inside the room.

"Do you think he's going to lose the war?"

"No," I answered as quickly as I thought about it, but then I hesitated. "Well…"

A glint in his eye already told me what he was about to say next.

"You _do_ think he's going to lose," He said. It was his turn to be surprised, but I already waved my hand as I shook my head.

"No, no, no, no! It's not like that… It's—"

"… Is this part of your...?" He bent his head forward just slightly with a knowing brow furrowed.

I paused and pursed my lip again. I'm not sure if Torrhen's super trustworthy enough to tell him this secret, but at the same time, at least someone in this group deserves to know it. If not Alton, then the next best thing that I knew who could keep a mouth shut was the person in front of me right now.

Finally deciding, I got up and peered unto the hallway, making sure no one's listening in. When I felt like the coast was clear, I turned around and faced him. What I gave him next was probably the sternest look up I've made to date.

"Look, what I'm telling you _cannot_ and _will not_ leave this compartment of a room. Ever."

His entire demeanor shifted and suddenly placed his back ramrod straight. Good. He knew that it was serious mode this time, and I'm seriously not kidding about the whole spoiler alert reveal that's going to happen.

"I haven't told this to Alton, so this totally means I'm serious. And I know you're commandeering this ragtag group of ours because I sure as hell won't be all the time, which basically means that you're gonna be the next in line, and I trust you _enough_ that you won't say a word to anyone about it."

He stiffened, but then he nodded at the remark.

"Very well then. I give you my word, and of course, my silence." He then said.

I crossed my arms, lightly tapping my index on the cloth covering my skin and inhaled a good amount of air before spewing it all out.

"Robb… didn't make it."

I waited for his reaction, but the delay was just too damn real. And then when the moment finally dawned on him, he was at a loss. If he thought he was all flustered before, then he had to prepare for the shitstorm that's coming next.

"… But how?" He asked dejectedly, standing up in his chair.

"Well, the main thing why he lost was because he didn't have a whole army left before the end. There was just… a lot of turmoil that happened, and most of his troops abandoned the cause because… well, because there's plenty of reasons to," I explained rather confusedly at the end.

"But we've allied with the Baratheon boy. And when we left— granted that it was chaos— it seemed that Robb still had the loyalty of his men," Torrhen argued.

"Yes, that's my doing thank you very much," I said matter-of-factly, but I continued with my explanation. "It went all downhill when Jaime escaped. Robb's only good hand was him, and when Jaime got away, y—"

I stopped. Should I tell him? I mean, he was already shocked at the revelation of Robb's death, but could he ever take in his? And if I go more into it, I also have to explain his father's revenge scheme and how it put a nail in Robb's coffin after that… figuratively.

No. I guess not. I mean, I'm sure he could take it if that huge plot-bomb were dropped on him, but I think it's just not the right time yet. Maybe I'm going to hold it off for a bit until there's a perfect moment for to tell it to him. Right now, I didn't want to add anymore worries than I'm already putting him in through.

"—Casualties happened. A-and in time, Robb became more careless and imprecise that all of his plans and strategies started to blow out of proportion. Eventually, doubt started to plant in everybody's head, thinking if Robb is even fit enough to lead."

Although it was an unconvincing recovery, I had still managed to put in words there that were plausible enough for him not to sniff out what I was trying to hide from him. Thankfully enough, either he didn't even think about it, or he chose instead not to say anything, as he simply nodded his head as a gesture for me to continue.

"Allies left him, people conspired and betrayed him. Do you remember that time when I clamored about the Boltons and how I knew so much about them and what they're gonna do? It's because _they_ did it. They tried to lure the entirety of Robb's men to the Freys—"

"Lord Walder Frey? And the Boltons?"

"All turncoats," I revealed.

Torrhen's shoulders slumped on the back of his seat, as if he'd received the worst news he could possibly imagine. I sighed. How many times did I try to tell this story already? Three, four times? I'd lost count already. The last one I knew was when I told Robb, and every single one of them had the same look of defeat on their faces.

This meant really everything to them, huh?

I approached his side, turned to my back and leaned on the table.

"Look, it's not going to happen. My first phase of plan worked, and we have Renly now on our side. The morale of the Stark bannermen is still there, and I'm sure that there won't be anyone leaving his side anytime soon," I assured him.

"And, what about your next plan?"

"It's for me to make sure that Robb doesn't go to any weddings." He reacted as if I'd told a joke. "I'm serious."

"Alright, say we plan to avoid that. What makes it so important that he couldn't go to any one of them?"

"It's what the Freys would do to seal his fate. Even if that wouldn't happen, I just have to make sure that that pervy incest-jackass would stay away from Robb as far as possible."

Torrhen went silent after that. I guess he was trying to digest all of the information that I lodged right in his face.

"I just can't believe that Lord Walder Frey would betray the Starks like this. And also the Boltons," He sighed in disappointment. "And to think that Robb banished you from his side, leaving him vulnerable in all of this."

"It had to be done, I guess. Or else there's a higher chance that all of what I told you _would_ happen," I replied, then I smirked. "Besides, I guess it wouldn't be much of a challenge if I was with him the whole time."

He scoffed, but there was a small lopsided grin that showed in his face. "Takes a lot of balls for someone who can practically alter the fate of this war to say that. And you don't even have one."

"I'm just lightening the mood a little. I know there's really nothing I could do at this point, so that's why I worry more about the little things, probably more often than necessary."

"And why _can't_ you do anything? Why not expose the Freys and the Boltons now?" He asked.

"I can't do that. I don't have definite proof. Even if you believe everything I'm saying right now, what makes you think the others wouldn't? The Bolton's will probably deny everything thrown at them as hearsay and it'll only warrant unwanted hostility."

"You make a good point," He remarked. "You've really thought everything through the worst possible outcome."

"And there could be worse that we don't know about that might happen. Stuff that even I couldn't probably predict anymore."

We were pretty much both silent at that point. I guess I presented more than enough spoilers than what I originally planned, but he seemed to be taking it more acceptingly than what I could've thought of. Still, I finally shared this part of the story and someone already knows about it, and it felt like there's a portion of weight on my shoulders were instantly lifted.

It felt good to talk about something like this and not letting it cooped up the way I did for an enormous amount of time. Heck, I didn't even have the guts to tell one of the main characters about this. But it just felt right somehow. At the very least, someone now has intel on what's to come, if I somehow don't come out on top of all this. And I felt like Torrhen might now be an essential player in the Game now that's he also in on it.

"You haven't even told Robb about it?" He opened up after my train of thought.

"Ohh, I did."

"And how did he react in all of this?"

"Surprisingly, a little better than expected. He was completely stumped of course from the start, but he gradually realized that his new goal was to overcome his fate. And so here we are," I gestured with my arms flung widely, at the dainty room that was probably the smallest room ever built in all of Westeros.

"Things are never going to be easier, isn't it?" Torrhen then said.

Oh honey, believe me, I've thought about that phrase a hundred times in my head already. If everyone thought that it was easy, then I would've been finished in this whole ordeal the first _week_ I've entered this world.

Instead, I placed my hand lightly on his shoulder for comfort. "I know it's a lot to take in, and I'm sorry if I shared my burden with you."

"No, no. I asked for it in the first place," He said. "I admit, I'm still feeling uneasy about it all but… I'll manage."

Torrhen sighed, but he stood up and rolled up the scroll he was working on before my interruption.

"I think I might settle in for the night. I'm not going to be able to write this letter with all of the thoughts circling through my mind right now. Would you be staying long?"

"No, I'll come with you. I'm feeling quite tired too."

Both of us walked each other back to our would-be dormitory. We didn't say anything past leaving the small room, so all of our time we spent together walking was just in pure silence. I didn't mind the lack of further conversation, as I was thinking more of the fact that I had finally told someone of Robb's story. I mean, this totally feels like a breather to me. Somehow, it eased that portion of my problem, and I was thankful that I got it all out.

The only worrying thing about it was if he would ever believe it or not. I left that whole thing out in the open. But I guess I should place my trust to people a little more. I was becoming too conservative that even telling people these things made me super paranoid about all the possibilities that might happen. I knew that the timeline was very sensitive to changes, and for all we know, him knowing this fate could probably become a vital point in changing history ahead.

Of course, Torrhen had probably read everything I was thinking before we entered the room.

"If you're thinking that I would tell anyone, I swear to you my lady, that nothing I ever heard you said in that room would ever slip out," Torrhen managed to say as we stopped over the at the entrance.

I didn't even want to deny what he said. I just stopped altogether and leaned a hand on the arch of the doorway, blocking the entrance to the dorm.

"Listen, I told you about Robb because you needed to. You're the semi-leader of this group and I want you to _lead_ it if in case I wouldn't be able to."

"I can assure you my lady, no harm—"

"I didn't say it because something bad would happen to me. It's just a precaution," I cut him off before he could go on about some chivalry antic. "Do you trust me?" I then asked.

"O-of course, my lady!"

"Right, 'cause I sure as hell could trust you. And It doesn't matter what you would or wouldn't do. Just… try to know that."

A brief moment passed, and then a sigh escaped on his lips. "You are indeed the most noble, my lady. I shall carry all your words down to my grave. I swear it on my House, and to the Old Gods and New."

I grinned coyly. Well, at least that's the end of that.

Now, I just need to solve the rest of my problems.

… Like how am I supposed to be changing my clothes in front of all these people?

* * *

 **A/N: Would love to know some update from you guys as well :) . Review/follow/face if you like it**


	6. The Step Back

Chapter 6

The Step Back

* * *

"Ugh. do we really have to do all of this?" I whined, lazily wiping the dust off the table.

Alton responded with a chuckle. "I clearly remembered you suggesting to have this place 'spick and span' as you call it, because you didn't want Robb seeing this mess when he gets home. Why are you backing out all of a sudden?"

"I take it back. Robb better enter this place with a bug net 'cause he's gonna have a fun time catching all the housey insects."

"I'm sure he would have servants to do his bidding." He grinned at some thought. "T'would be a funny sight though, seeing the King of Winterfell swinging a bug net to catch his prey: the mighty and terrible spider."

"He isn't gonna notice it even if we try to clean up this place…" I muttered.

Not that I don't like cleaning, but now I'm not even sure anymore, because this is probably the second time around I complained about wiping off tables; both have been mandatory to a point that I couldn't get out of it. Either way, this was probably the fifth room Alton and I visited. My palms were already starting to ache from all the sweeping and cleaning all the furniture and debris that got in the way, and I was probably on the verge of giving up and forget I even mentioned such an atrocious suggestion.

Ugh, I guess someone had to do this. I'm probably sure that the series people would skip these mundane tidbits and make sure that a ruined place would magically be spotless like a brand apartment building or something. Speaking of, what I could _really_ use by now is my good ol' trusty vacuum. And by mean good ol', like the really old one that I had. The one in my apartment had this vacuum from the late 90's that could only be turned on if it's on the highest suckage power. And it could become really loud that my neighbors would start knocking on the walls screaming to shut it down while I was cleaning.

I miss technology, even just for its nuances.

"How well do you know Robb Stark?" Alton wondered aloud, prompting to open up another topic.

I snorted. "More than I could've ever imagined."

His face blanked out for a second facing me. "Oh."

A short pause passed by between us, and then _I_ realized what I said had implied.

"Not like _that_ , you dolt," I huffed, squinting my eyes at him. "It's... well, it's very complicated. I never, _ever_ should've met him in the first place. But strangely enough, I did. So, yeah."

"Ah, I see," He said. Strangely enough, he sighed like he was holding his breath or something and then he smiled shakily. "I'd thought there'd be something more than just platonic going on between you two."

"That'd be too scandalous for my taste." I replied cheekily. Although I knew beforehand that I had a huge crush on him when this had all started, it seemed like I couldn't squeeze myself into his life any more than I could've really hoped for. It wasn't like Robb was a huge package to deal with. It's just that when I learned and realized more of his personality, he seemed more of a real person and not just someone I see on TV with good looks… You kinda get what I mean, right?

Unlike his attention span before, Robb seemed way more focused on his goals now. And instead of me forcing myself into his life, I wanted to make sure that his goals didn't sway like it did before, and that too made me distracted to even think about it that time. I guess the circumstances didn't just click between the two of us. Not that the moment had to matter anyway.

And I utterly grew to understand and respect him more because of that other kind bond we shared.

"I would imagine his new status as the ruler of the North and being unwed, he would have women lining up to him the length of Winterfell to King's Landing." He then said.

"Trust me, back where I come from, it'd definitely be more than that."

Alton chuckled, and that gave us just a few seconds of momentary peace while we continued with the cleaning, surprisingly to my own volition.

Until the the door of the room we were working in slammed open.

My head instantly spun towards the direction, and on the entrance was Torrhen, with a troubled look on his face. He slowly raised up an arm, and in his hand there were a few scrolls he was holding between his index and middle fingers.

"My Lady, 'tis a letter." He said.

I bit back the shock and gasp that jerked out of its corner and steeled myself. "Is it from Robb?"

"Worse," He then extended his arm and handed me the rolled up parchments.

The seals themselves weren't something I could recognize at first, but then I slowly recognized they all came from different Houses here in the North. I inspected them one by one, they only came bearing around three to four sentences, all the same type of messages, just different wordings.

"Glover… Mormont… I don't understand, they know we're here?"

"And the Karstarks," He lifted up another open scroll, this time bearing the seal of his family. "Though I assume we're not the real surprise."

But how? I was sure that Robb would never spoke to anyone who wasn't trustworthy enough about why we came here. And even it's been a few days at most that we've been here, the men really never left the castle unless they were ordered to.

Then again, this _was_ Winterfell. It's basically the capital of the North. If ever there was ever a moment that something could be sniffed, then…

Goddammit. Spies. Spies everywhere.

And it's not like I wouldn't ever trust any of the Northerners. I've seen them personally in action. They were very loyal and true. It's just that we wanted to be as discreet as possible, especially the fact that I have big target on my head around these parts.

This isn't good. Them coming means that we have no choice but to accommodate them. Leaving would arouse suspicion, so it means that we're stuck in this place. I wouldn't be able to pinpoint Bran and Rickon if I stayed here doing nothing. I would've expected that we leave once we restocked our supplies and waited for an update from Robb, but we obviously didn't account this predicament.

"We need to make a plan." I opened, discarding my previous task, folding the towel and placed it on the table.

"Already taken care of," Torrhen answered. "I've sent word to our men that we would be staying for a couple more days. We've got all the time that we need to prepare."

Knowing that took at least some tension off my back.

"Okay then. This is fine. I think we can handle it."

"Anything else would you like to add?"

"Hm, no. None that I can think of."

"Good, because there's one more matter we need to discuss."

I was about to ask him the second issue, but he had revealed the fourth scroll from one of his pockets. Torrhen's face was impassive, but I could clearly see how he creased his forehead and the slight tick when he clenched his jaw. He didn't need to speak when he gave me the rolled-up paper, because the emblem that was etched on the seal already said it all.

The inverted flayed man.

Holy. Crap.

"The Boltons."

* * *

Even if we were the only ones in the Hold, it had seemed like everything was already a bustle. I hadn't noticed it until recently, but funnily enough, I was doing the whole briskly-walking-to-random-parts-of-the-castle bit where there were at least three to four people who were following me and listing down all of my commands and agendas. I admit, I even added a little smirk to myself when I finally realized that things were starting to get a little hectic after all the idle time we did.

I knew I had to put on at least a little bit of extra effort when I knew people were coming to Winterfell. This whole thing wasn't in the script as far as I know, so it made me anxious as to how do I approach this. Especially with the "secret boss on the side quest" thing. I mean, for the most part, I've avoided Walder Frey when I crossed to the south, 'cause I knew that there's pretty much nothing I could do regarding there just yet.

Now, I have a sinking feeling that the one and only Ramsay Bolton would appear in this particular visit.

"How goes the search?" I immediately babbled. Thinking about Ramsay just sent shivers down my spine. Just thinking about another topic was already hard enough.

"We're still trying to discover the hidden passageways here in Winterfell. It might take the whole day before we can scour the entirety of the castle." Warron answered.

"Good. Make sure you that if you find any, take note of them. And how are our rations?"

"Plenty of 'em to feed our men and the men coming." Torrhen behind me walking was the one who answered this time.

"Posts and shifts?"

"All set up. We've ensured that you have two guards on you at all times."

"Not necessary," I commented. "And the letter to inform Robb?"

"Sent by Domeric by raven earlier this morning."

"Hmm.."

I paused, thinking. I was about to mention something, but it seemed like it's slipped off my tongue somehow. There's probably still an abundant of questions that needed to be asked, but I guess I'll let it slide for now.

"Rest assured we've got things handled, m'lady. There's not much we could do now but to prepare." Torrhen spoke against the silence while walking.

Thankfully, we were already nearing the stairwell that led to the courtyard. I stopped and turned around. Everyone halted their tracks and looked at me. I clasped my hands together and gave them my most appreciative grin.

"I thank all of you for your efforts. Now please, go back to your duties and then rest. We have plenty of stuff to do tomorrow so I expect your one hundred percent… Err, I mean, your fullest."

All of them nodded and were dismissed, dispersing the group and scattered to all possible directions. Alton was the only one who was left, and he was smiling mischievously at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Tell me, how much did you enjoy yourself giving out orders to your men?"

I scoffed, turned and climbed down the stairs. He of course, followed suit. "That was not a joke, Alton."

"Just couldn't help myself, 'tis all."

I sighed. On the middle of another hallway I had stopped and turned to look at him.

"I'm actually a bit anxious when they will arrive."

His face had now sobered. "How so?"

"I mean, I know I shouldn't worry too much, but it's not so easy coming up with ways on how to deal with the Boltons."

"Like knowing secret passageways that leads out of Winterfell?" He quipped. I formed a scowl. "Forgive me, but how does that help in dealing with them?"

"It's a precautionary measure. If things get a little too dicey for my taste, then we leave." I said.

"You think that the Boltons would cause trouble during the meeting? But Lord Roose is still with Robb in the war. I would doubt that his bastard son would cause any ruckus while his father is away."

I scoffed, and started moving again. Did he even know about Murphy's Law?

Apparently, Alton thought the better of it and barred my way.

"I think I know what we should do."

I crossed my arms with one of my brows raised. "Please don't tell me we're going to clean another one of these rooms."

"C'mon. I promise you'll enjoy it."

Like he ever gave me a choice to say 'no' anyway. He had already urged me to follow him, winding down some passageways as we walked in silence.

Alton finally took me outside the training courtyard, wondering about what he was about to do. He took a sharp turn as he approached armor and weapon racks that lined uniformly in one corner of the castle walls. He reached for two sets of training swords and a pair of thick vests.

One set he threw at me, deftly catching it before I could've fumbled it ungracefully.

"Are you implying what I think you're doing?" I questioned.

Of course he was. I'm not dumb. I didn't even know why I bothered to ask. All he did was plaster up a smug-looking grin on his face while he fastened his gear.

"I remembered once you told me that you learned how to wield a sword." Alton reminded me of some self-absorbed comment I made a long time ago, suddenly feeling regret that I ever had to tell him.

"Yeah, and I told you I was never really any good at it."

"Perhaps. But I have never seen you needing to wield it for me to pass judgement."

I just shook my head and tried to hold back another sarcastic remark. I guess it's time for me to get this over with. Might do me some good to relieve me of the stress that's been slowly piling up.

Speaking of time, it's been months already since I last handled a sword. Even if this was just a training blade, the grip felt different, maybe because I'm not used to holding one that's slightly heavier than I should've.

But the feeling was good. The palm of my hand instantly pulsed with anticipation when I held the grip that was covered in worn-out cloth. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I should've reacted very differently, but I guess the experience I had in the North grew on me. More so the fact that I've gotten used to carrying around a sword with me almost all the time back then, that it was practically second to breathing.

Even if I never even did like all the fighting.

"Place seems quiet enough already. I'm sure I could borrow at least a small amount of Lady Fate's time?" His playful smirk was all too enticing for me to smudge it off of him.

"Oh, you're certainly going down."

I readied a stance, one that mentor could've have been proud of, and gripped my sword tightly as if it was a lifeline. I studied my foe, his posture was a bit loose but was certainly attentive. His eyes were sharp and not once did it move away or cast a glance elsewhere, despite that no one was even here to watch us. He hovered his sword up slightly and he was the first one to lunge.

He certainly was very fast, but at the same time very readable. The first few strikes I could defend myself quite impressively I should say, and by the time I got his rhythm, I was able to deal with some of my retaliation.

It went on like that for the first couple of seconds: parry, strike, dodge, repeat. Something I learned from the basics that I would never stay on the defensive. I had to make sure that the length between my feet were far and even. A steady posture is needed, that so I could read my opponent's move and block/dodge appropriately in time.

 _Breathe in…_

I swung my sword downward, and it would've almost nicked him if he didn't back away. The distance grew on us again, and the tense air was all too consuming.

Every time I got into the "sparring ring", I knew I would always give it my all. Of course, there's really no denying that 'my all' was just some sad excuse for all the soon-to-be warriors out there, but I was told in a ribbon-of-appreciation type of fashion that I had fighting spirit. Of course I reacted once they said that to me. I would've bet that no one in the whole story was able to won because of 'fighting spirit'. But in some ways, it grew as a fighting style for me once I've noticed it. The scrappy, do-it-your-all-but-it's-always-not-enough kind of slashing and hacking through the enemy.

Alton's fighting style however, was certainly different. His was more fluid, graceful even. His defenses were lightning-quick, and sometimes I would even be surprised that he had dodged my swings by bending or moving away instead of deflecting them with his sword. His body moved like it was just a reflex in the hand. He was certainly no amateur like me. Even if he looked less scrawny than Pyp, I could tell that he was very athletic and flexible than Pyp could ever be.

But when it comes to his offense, he didn't even bother to make an effort at all. Unlike his body, his arm was too slow, his swings were too wild, and sometimes even all too predictable.

… His moves were too slow for my taste.

"Going easy on me now, Alton?" I mocked as I slowly closed the disatance.

"I'm trying to get a read on you." He took a step back and went to his original pose.

I snorted. "Please, if you ever put on some lame excuse just because I'm a girl…"

"Hmm, maybe. But in my defense, I havenever fought with _any_ woman at all."

Oh my God. That face. If I ever see that annoying smirk one more time…

 _Urgh_. No. I learned my lesson from last time. This ain't gonna be another déjà vu moment. I'm not gonna fall into cheap psychology-provoking tactics anymore.

Okay, I think I had a plan for this one. I need him to attack me somehow, just wait for that opportune moment, so I waited. Little did he know that I'd observed that he had some impatient swings as well.

Again, he made for another lunge.

He made a swing downwards and I had evaded it easily, leaving him open. I initiated my counter with a sideswipe. Somehow he still had his footing, pushing a leg to gain momentum and went forward, missing my strike. We were then back again to the same position, but this time I went for the offensive and made a thrust, but I didn't fully exert my strength. It was a feint.

Precisely when I wanted him to dodge, he did. And that's when I made my move. I retracted my sword swiftly and wound up a downward swing.

This is where everything messed up for my part.

It was always that damn footing. He somehow knew it was coming. And I was made a fool of my initial plan. He didn't exactly dodge the attack, he only moved slightly to the side to where he planted his foot for balance. His sword was already at a parry, and when dull metal clashed into dull metal, he swung his elbow upward while the weight of my sword was still on his. I had thought it would hit me, but instead he went all the way around and wrapped his whole arm to grab hold of my wrist where I held my sword.

I tried to push him away from me, but he chucked his hand to disarm me, and then he kicked it beyond my reach. He let go, and the next thing came out to quickly for my taste. His sword was already pointed high into the sky, and it was coming down very swiftly. I had no choice but to flinch reflexively and anticipate of what's to come next.

There was a pause.

The moment when on, and then I suddenly heard a snicker.

I peeled one eye open, and then I noticed Alton's smug look on his face. The sword he was holding was mere inches away from me, but it was shaking as well, like an insult to my pride.

"W-what's so damn funny?" I demanded, pushing him away.

"Ah, I just can't help but admire how girly you looked with you face all scrunched up a second ago."

The cheeks on my face flushed beet red. I decided to punch him in the arm, only for him to wobble playfully with a chuckle.

We continued to spar for a couple more minutes, him teaching him some of the basics that he was taught. I wasn't surprised that some of his techniques were vastly different than what I've learned, only some elements like when to strike back after evading remained in the process. That was one of the few things he pointed out that was impressive during our first bout. He remarked that I knew at least how to defend myself, and by far had complimented me that I was no average Joe— Jane in this case.

Only about the third time that I failed to yield him, I didn't need to even ask him for a quick break. God, I wish water bottles exist in this era. Small things like finding a watering hole or a well and picking up a bucket still is a deign a menial task for me to do.

By the end of it all, we just sat on a nearby bench in silence. Despite the cold, I was sweating. It was good to have the nerves kick in every once in a while, but I knew that sweat and cold temperatures don't seem to mesh well together, so I needed a quick outfit change soon.

I wasn't granted that at all when Torrhen entered the courtyard.

"M'lady, banners spotted on the southern glade."

I quickly stood up. Wait. I thought… I didn't expect a contingent would arrive so soon.

Unless…

"Did you see which House bear their flags?"

"Unfortunately, yes," He said, his eyes were hinting a guilty look. "They bear the arms of House Bolton, m'lady."

Holy fuck.

"Prepare for their arrival. Send one of ours as a representative to welcome them to Winterfell."

A quick nod and then Torrhen had already left.

No, I wasn't going to panic, even if I was already shaking all over. Shit. Of all the Houses I could've imagined serving a dinner platter first, I certainly didn't expect the Boltons to be the one taking the spotlight. I was expecting more of a grandiose entrance with a snarky twist of blood and murder.

But maybe that'll happen. They haven't even arrived yet officially.

"Are you all right, Rory? You look like you've seen my ancestors." To my left, Alton had flushed me worried look.

I sighed. "I think that would be a more pleasant sight to see Alton. Maybe."

* * *

The Winterfell gates slowly groaned to an open. The first sight I had laid my eyes upon were the eerie looking heralds that fluttered the winds. Obsidian flags bearing a red figure of an upside-down man. Just by staring at them had already given me shivers down my spine.

A quick change of clothes into my normal "cloaked" form, I noticed I was breathing quite harshly underneath the cloth of my face. Anxiety it would seem. I was so stressed about looking straight into Ramsay's face, how utterly menacing and terrifying just the thought of all those despicable things he'd done. And I was downright scared that my fate would somehow intertwine with his.

If there's one thing that I could stay the heck away in this entire story, it would be him. I'll stop him for whatever cruelty he'll be doing… just let me be at least five miles away from that psychopath.

A small group of men with horses had approached the entrance of the gate and slowly filled the courtyard one by one. No wonder they were able to make it here in record time. A couple of them rode in pairs, but with a quick shout from one of them, every man behind the riders unmounted and quickly came to fix their horses.

One of their men strode forward, a face that I could not recognize. Torrhen on our side was the one who stepped up.

"We welcome you to Winterfell, House Bolton," Bade Torrhen with a small bow. "I apologize that it does seem ill-fitting for me to do so as I'm not a Stark, but we bear his King's name under a quest. We are seeking refuge here in the meantime."

No… this doesn't feel right.

"And what does this quest forego?" Said the man in front.

"We came to seek the remains of the Stark brothers. Their mother had asked this to her King, and a small group was chosen to bring their ashes back to them."

A convenient alibi that I'd thought of recently that we decided to tell to any parties we might encounter. I mean, the whole world knows that they're dead, but I believe in the term _habeas corpus_ when presented, and this feels like it's a perfect example of a situation that's applicable.

"Seems unlikely to send out a party just for dead ash." The man speculated. "Besides, wouldn't it be more convenient if they came back and lay down their dead without it moving?"

Torrhen shot them with a warning look. "I'll pretend I didn't hear your first statement about our King's younger brothers. Orders are orders. I dare not question the Young Wolf's commands."

Woah, hey there. Good point. For a second there I'd thought that we were done for.

He only replied with a grunt, guessing that he had no choice but to comply that bugger, and then he turned his head to his companions. "Unpack your weapons and belongings. We will stay here until the rest of the Houses arrive."

After that became a flurry of busybodies and movement. They sure as hell helped themselves in unpacking and moving their own horses into the stables. All of us were just standing in one corner, looking at them as they began fixing their stuff.

Something in the back of my mind kept on nagging me about this one concern. I quickly studied every one of them, but not even one of them was the person I was looking for.

"I don't understand…" I muttered.

Alton had turned his head to my side. "About what?"

I looked to him. "I couldn't see Ramsay Bolton."

"But, isn't he the one that Torrhen spoke to?"

"No, it can't—" Wait.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it _was_ him. There were already some inconsistencies that I figured when I came into this world. Like Benjen not looking exactly like he was on the show. And Robb and his brothers looked pretty much like they've just acquired their driver's licenses. Maybe this was another historical inaccuracy that the directors somehow had missed out.

"Maybe you're right." I sighed, looking back at the entrance where the Boltons started unpacking. "He didn't even try to introduce himself. Maybe… Mayb—"

I stopped.

"Maybe what?" Alton goaded. I couldn't reply. I stood there in fear as my eyes had rooted upon the only familiar face that I hoped I'd never see. Only a few meters away as he inconspicuously blended in with the crowd. Icy-blue eyes that kept on glancing from all the other corners of the castle, mimicking the posture as one of the stable-boys.

Holy… Oh Lordy.

There were moments when ladies go weak on their knees probably because they've seen the most attractive man on the planet. All hot and bothered and fanning themselves and hyperventilating as if they were having a panic attack. That wasn't the case for me. I was breathing raggedly because all the stress and the crawling thoughts have become into fruition. My knees became numb because I've seen, utterly the most horrid person that could've probably spawned in existence.

He was there. Looking all too innocent with his eyes carefully observing its surroundings.

It was Ramsay Bolton.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know what you think! Been out of sorts lately because I made a 2-part story for Stranger Things, but that's all out of the way and I'm all on this one again!**

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 **if you like it**


	7. An Inopportune Leap

Chapter 7

An Inopportune Leap

* * *

 **Past**

I took my phone out and gazed at the selfie camera, fixing up whatever dustings or uneven hairline that had me anxiously self-conscious about the whole party thing. This whole nervousness of mine dated way back during orientation where I had just met another freshman like I was. Luckily, over the course of months, we had gotten along pretty well; Rose Krumskie was really nice and was very friendly to be around with and we kinda helped out with whatever problems that we had. Be it exams, schedules, injuries. Even with figuring out where our classes are on our first day at campus we managed to fumble our way out of that one.

Anyway, we became fast friends because of that and we were pretty much glue from that point on. Flash forward a couple of months later, she decided to pull off a celebration before heading into spring break, so she organized a small get-together and hang out in an apartment with his boyfriend who was apparently living somewhere near the campus.

Feeling ready and shaking off the nervousness, I knocked on the door waited. My ears perked as I was anticipating some kind of noise from the inside, but it seemed like it was uneasily quiet just like the rest of the hallway… Did I miss the party or something? I checked on my clock and I think I was on time.

A tall, lanky guy with some smartsy glasses opened the door and greeted me with a smile.

"Oh hey, someone came! Perfect, I thought we'd all be alone." His voice seemed very gracious, like I was actually an answer to his prayers.

I blanked out for a second. "Wait, am I the first one that got here?"

Talk about being fashionably late.

"No, you're probably the _only_ person that'll be coming, sadly." He pulled one side of his lip into a wry grin. "Name's Ethan. Come on in."

"Rory."

I'm still kind of flabbergasted by it all, and I suddenly realized I actually made an effort into putting a suitable dress together. It's just a normal Sunday's dress though that I usually wear, not really wanting to commit anything overly fancy. But still…

Speaking of not wanting gaudy things, Ethan's place looks very neat and spacious. It had dull fleshy-brown colors for walls but it had made up for some organization of belongings around the home. When I entered, I already heard the T.V. was on and they were playing some movie I wasn't really familiar with. Rose turned her head around from the couch and she instantly screamed with glee.

"Oh my God, thank you Rory! I thought we'd all be alone!" She practically jumped herself off her seat and ran out to me giving me a hug.

I was smacked by the wall of force that is the her and made an "oomph" as she clung to me and she was heaving almost as if she was crying.

"Hey, I already said that line." Ethan quipped.

"Sshh, let's not ruin the moment, please." Rose's grip tightened like a bear and I had almost gave up breathing when she cooed one more time and then released me. "Oh Rory, I appreciate you so much for coming!"

"Uhh, yeah, thanks?" My brows were still furrowed.

"Kinda bummed, everyone backed out for some reason. Kurt couldn't make it because he left early for spring break. Mitch said he had food poisoning from the dinner he ate yesterday, and Jenny apparently told that she was coming, but at the last minute she admitted that she just came home from an all-night party and she said she needed the zzz's." She rolled her eyes and then pulled a devilish smirk. "Guess we know who we don't talk to at lunch table when we get back."

"You're evil."

"I was just kidding!" Rose laughed, sobering after a little bit. "Do you really classify me as some stuck-up bitch?"

"Yeah, whatever." I smirked, I looked at Ethan and he was grinning along while he was preparing popcorn. "Hey look, I don't wanna intrude you guys, so it's really fine—"

"Nonsense," Ethan piped in. "I maybe his boyfriend but we don't want to spend _all_ our time with each other."

"Yeah, and we promise we won't leave you out. You can even sit between us if you'd like." She said, thumbing on the couch with the T.V. still on.

Well, if they _really_ insist.

"What are you guys watching anyway?"

Both of them looked at each other, it was pure telepathy 'till then. After that, they both formed some kind of wicked grin with each other. I think like a second ago they just mentioned they wouldn't leave me out, but I guess it can't be helped anyway.

"You'll love it. It's called Game of Thrones." Rose spoke.

"Oh, that thing's what the craze is all about?" I looked at the screen and there was this scene where there's this really handsome guy having fun at a dinner party.

I'm really not sure how it became a really big sensation around campus. One day we were just walking around the place living our prehistoric lives and then the next everyone felt like they had been enlightened in life and everyone's been talking about it like zombies around school.

"Yeah, you wanna watch?" Ethan suggested.

"I think we should let her start with the beginning first." Rose had moved to the position back at the couch again, punching in the controls of the remote. "What do you think?"

I smiled. "Sure. I wouldn't mind… Is it good?"

They looked at each other again.

"Well, let's just find out then." I answered for myself.

* * *

"Oh my," I hate to say this, but I literally did the whole easing up my collar all loosely thing. My wide-eyed expression couldn't shy away from the scene that was currently running. Heck, I knew my brain definitely said 'fanservice' over everything while the lizard part of it said 'HOLY YES, CLUB ME WITH YOUR STICK CAVEMAN AND TAKE ME TO YOUR HOME'.

The scene I was talking about was when the three glorious-looking, half-naked men went in to the barbers and had their hairs clipped for the meeting with the King of the land or some sort. I couldn't take in all the information too well since they were so many they were referencing at the time.

And seriously, who in the right mind would be more absorbed about information when there are plenty of other things to be absorbed in? Like, say the Abercrombie models who were standing in front of the T.V. ?

"Eugh, I hate this scene." Ethan commented silently.

"Not for me." Rose replied.

"Me neither," I supplied after. "D'you think they have girlfriends in real life?"

She pointed first at the gut on the far left. "The lanky guy, Theon, not sure if he has one. I think Kit— err, Jon Snow, the bastard guy— is secretly dating one of his co-stars in the next season, but no one is confirming it yet. What, you like him?"

"The broody guy? Uh-uh. Too angsty for my taste." Though I'd definitely say that he looked quite charming. Has that sort of 'I'm never gonna be good enough for you' appeal to him. But ever since I've had the traumatic experience of knowing Edward Cullen, it kinda ruined those guys for me honestly. "I like his brother though. Is he the protagonist?" Asking as I've noticed that the scenes skips so much to different people that I wasn't sure who was the main character really was on this show.

She looked at Ethan haughtily and I swear I could see him hiding a smirk, like there was some sort of inside joke that I didn't know about.

"Yeah. Sure. He's definitely a hero." She lazily answered. "He's married though. In real life."

"Aww, that sucks."

"Shh! We're getting to the good part!" Ryan chimed in the conversation, waving his hand in motion for us to concentrate on the screen.

Way to go for a boner-kill. If there was any bone to begin with. But what can I say? I'm a classy girl. I like a man who would tell you to stay back and don't run to danger as he would ride off into the battlefield, guns blazing and all that jazz. That guy— Robb, I believe his name was— obviously seem to fit the bill just right.

No offense to anyone, by the way.

But even then, little did I know back then that he was just too chivalrous for his own good.

….

"They're twins!?" I exclaimed. Oh Lordy. "And then they… And then…"

Watching as the credits roll over the screen, my mouth gaped like a fish out of water, I couldn't fathom over the fact they'd actually _done_ that. On a freaking T.V. show no less. I'm not sure if I'm too tame with the working all other series out there, but good golly this takes the cake for my virgin eyes to have ever seen in the entirety of my existence.

I mean, the logical part of me would find out the reason why they did _it_ in the first place. I'm pretty sure that it would be further explained in the later episodes, but yeah, I get to see why it's always been a fuss and so controversial every time I see it on my news feed. I mean, incest is slightly unheard of, but it's there. But twins? In each other? I swear, if I ever had a twin, I'd imagine myself looking just like him. And looking at him would make me think I'm looking at myself. Doesn't that sound a little too… pretentious? ostentatious? I don't even know.

"Look Ethan, she's gotten herself all flustered." Rose smirked devilishly on my side.

"Oh yeah. She's got ' _it'._ The curse." On the other side, Ryan had giggled like a child who just sneakily got away from detention. I slapped him in the arm. "Hey, ow!"

"I'm not kidding. I mean how could they…" I waved my hands wildly. "And then they just _pushed_ what's-his-name over a freaking _tower_!" I mean, emphasis on everything that needed to be emphasized, I still couldn't revel the fact that just _happened_ in an instant.

"You mean Bran," Ethan clarified. "But don't you get it? The kid just saw both of them _shagging_ each other."

"But that's… that's just so _wrong_."

"You just don't see the beauty of it."

Flabbergasted. Utterly flabbergasted. "I hope you're not referring to the _coupling_." I said flatly.

"What? Of course not, what do you think I have? Some sort of incest fetish?" He questioned in disgust. Somehow, I did believe that part. "No, the writing. That plot twist. If you've started off your seriess like that, who would _not_ want to turn the next episode?"

I mean yeah, some part of me would think that's a great idea for a plot freaking twist. That twist was like a whirling hurricane that made me question the sanity of the people who green-lighted this show, and it would cause a lot of people to talk about it. And talk they did.

No wonder this show had been the talk of everything as of late.

"Still… It's _wrong_."

Ryan only just light-heartedly chuckled. "Hey, at least you made it through. That's a start."

"You know what guys, I think I know what we should do." Rose piped in as she reached for the remote.

She punched in a few buttons and then the T.V. blared the iconic static that would someday start the epitome of the fate and destiny for me in the world of Westeros.

* * *

 **Present**

I was brought back to my own musings when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Looking towards the person, I noticed it was Dom's, and then I had suddenly remembered the present.

"You seem to be in quiet thought, lady Rory." He stated in a worried tone.

Domeric was the type of person who never fails to smile and had a positive outlook on things, but at that moment he still showed at least some concern in his eyes for me.

I managed to force a grin back, but I turned my head when I realized the bug of nostalgia biting me again. The thought had struck me a little unguarded this time, and I honestly felt like I was dreaming in the middle of being awake. The train of thought felt like hours as the time dragged on with the memories of my old friends back home, but it only felt like minutes back here in real life.

Was this even real life? Is this place even real? I'm starting to have problems telling which is which now. This place almost seemed like being in a dream itself, but what I'm feeling, what I've gone through, all the wounds, the blood, sweat and everything else, all of them were real enough for me…

I felt a small sting in my arm. I had only just noticed by then that I was actually pinching a portion of skin underneath my cloak.

"I've always been daydreaming, haven't I?" I chuckled at my own horrible deflection, almost feeling embarrassed about myself declaring it.

"Nothing really wrong with it. So long as you find yourself back to where you are."

Oh yeah. Sure enough, I had remembered that Dom and I were partnered for watch duty this time around. I had also remembered that night was slowly about to fall. We were waiting for a few more dignitaries before we could call it a day. But for now, we were stationed in one of the highest merlons in the Keep and we've got a pretty good view over the town and the landscape beyond.

Speaking of... "Did anyone arrive?" I had asked, changing the topic abruptly before he could comment on it.

"My ravens have spotted a group just about half an hour ago." He tilted his head way up, I saw a small black figure circling above us, cawing. "We would see them in a matter of moments."

Holy cow, half an hour? Did I really blanked out for thirty minutes?

Shaking my head, I continued. "How about the others who've just arrived?"

"Well taken care of and ready for the meeting tonight."

I sighed. I wasn't really at all excited about the coming meeting. Not especially when my mind danced around from each and every problem I have right now. The first of those was that I knew somewhere inside Winterfell there's a certain Bolton lurking in the fray.

Yep. _The_ Ramsay Bolton. If there's anything paranoia thought me over the past couple of months, it's to make sure to worry about all the finer details over characters I had remembered in the past. My memories of him were already grainy, but it's really no contest that he was just too horrible, deceitful, and he poses a great danger to anyone near him if he's left unchecked. But that was just a few of the reasons why I needed to be careful this time around.

What was really bogging me was Theon Greyjoy. I knew at some point that Theon gets to be captured by this guy. Even after locking eyes at him last morning I had even thought of Theon next and turned around to look for him. And yet, he wasn't even here. Did something happened that altered the timeline? I recounted all of the things that I had changed but none of them seemed connected at all to the Ironborn.

I had even asked Alton if he'd seen any thin fellow that looked scruffy and felt like a need to eat, but he hadn't seen any person of that note as well.

"You're about to do it again, m'lady."

I blinked.

"Sorry."

He only smiled gleefully at that. "S'okay m'lady, so long as you find yourself back." He said absent-mindedly through the wind.

I turned to him with furrowed brows. "You already mentioned that."

"Well, in particular, when you train ravens, you often have to repeat things you want to say so they could fully understand what you're trying to communicate with them. Ravens are very intelligent birds at that."

"Interesting… analogy, I guess?"

I find it amusing how sometimes Dom mentions a lot of random things and he still manages to incorporate it with ravens. Dom's innocence was something to be admired. He's like your average crazy-uncle that often forgets the simplest of things in his household, but he's a dear to be around with. Most of the time he's aloof and he really prefers to be with his birds, but in a sense he also didn't mind if he was with people.

"How long did you first started to train ravens?" I had asked, starting another conversation.

"Since I was a wee kid, I presume." He started, there was a kind of melancholy in his eyes that made him revel his memories. And as if like a program, he had automatically begun to recall his past.

"I remembered there was an old crone who lived along the outermost edge of our small town. Blind as a bat she was. Little rugrats we were back then as well. She almost always had food hidden somewhere inside her home, and we would sometimes make a bet who could steal one from her without ever getting caught. Of course, none of us could do it. That woman, blind as she may be, could sense us entering her front door, or if we crept in through one of her windows."

"Ravens however were able to fly inside without her minding. We didn't know why, maybe she enjoys the company of animals. One time, I even remembered there was that one raven that was able to land in front of her. Again, she didn't really mind it, and the raven went about its way. I had managed to watch it with my very own eyes. And it was able to scruff a piece of bread from a table before flying off."

"I was easily impressed. Dare I say I admitted that it was even smarter than me that time perhaps. That was then I knew I had to learn about them birds."

"And how did it go?" I continued asking.

"It was the worst," He chuckled. "I had managed to capture one, but it won't obviously follow my whim. I had tried everything: food, comfort, shelter… It won't simply be commanded. It was after many weeks of failed attempts that I had realized that adult ravens can never be tamed, at least not by normal means."

"Wait, you mentioned about the _adult_ ones..?"

That's when he grinned mischievously. "It took even longer than that to find a proper raven egg. But after climbing so many trees and checking out all the nests, I had managed to find one with beautiful black feathers adorned to it. It was only one, however. Which meant that I had only one chance."

I get it. I think the term called for it was imprinting. Sounds very trashy because I learned the existence of Twilight, but that's how it works in some ways I guess. I've remembered seeing a random picture on the internet about this guy who brought a baby duck in his class and it was well-behaved and it didn't bother them at all during the lecture.

Geez, I never realized internet was actually a thing back in my world up until now.

"I raised it on my own, tried to look like I was its mother. I kept the egg warm until it hatched, fed it, watched it grow and eventually grew its feathers. 'Til it could manage to swing from one cabinet to another…"

"And then you were able to train it?"

"Why, yes. It was… a little trickier to do. I couldn't spare all the details, let's just say it's done with a little bit of caring and reminding." He winked.

Lord knows what that meant. "… So did you manage to steal from the old lady back then?" I said.

"Oh no, she had died before I managed to turn the raven into an adult. Although after that, I never went hungry again. When it learned how to _fetch_ me food from the baker's store, or a tiny chunk of meat by the butchery, well… you know how my ravens became popular."

"And because of your talent, you were enlisted in the war." I smiled sadly. There are a few similarities of the concept of poverty from my world and in Westeros. I guess people on that sort of living condition strive from their own resources… and in a way, it couldn't really be helped.

I _knew_ it was bad

It just sucks that Dom beat the system of ravenkeeping but then he got plunged unnecessarily to this whole thing. "It's… a nice story, I think. Except the ending part."

"Not all wars bring destruction." He smiled ruefully.

I turned again to look at him. "How so?"

"I was living off the streets from the most distant land of civilization. Serving the Lord's cause removed me from that place and gave me food and shelter. At least, more in abundance. And then I get to travel to places I never dreamed of imagining. My growing ravens also get everything that I have. All in for a small exchange to fly to the wind, which is what they enjoy."

"I… hadn't thought about that." I blinked, wanting to say something more or deflect his answer, but it never went through.

He spoke vehemently. "The war brought me purpose. And there are countless of others who thought nothing of their life until this all happened."

"Some men train for life on how to brandish a sword. I guess they really get to test all of it here when push comes to shove." I added as an afterthought.

And then Dom looked to me after a long while of staring into the growing sunset. "You are learning to see all the sides of the coin."

I chuckled. "There are only two."

"Yes, but there are more that you have on your pocket, no?"

I ducked my head, hiding the fit of laughter. I swear I didn't know what he was going on about, but I appreciated the sentiment. I didn't even notice Dom could hold out an actual conversation for his sake. Pretty sure the saying that the quiet ones are often the wisest definitely rings true for him.

"Thanks, Dom. It was a good talk—"

"Look."

He pointed towards the horizon. I squinted my eyes to see, and then I noticed flags hovering over the distance.

Well, it was fun while it lasted.

"That's the last of 'em." I started, my voice back to serious mode again. "Dom, can you ride out with another to come and greet them?"

He bowed. "As you command, my ladyship."

And as if by thought, one of the raven that was hovering off above us flew into the courtyard where our men have been waiting. The signal had gotten to them immediately and everyone went scrambling to where they should be.

* * *

I could already hear faint noise coming from the other side of the door. I breathed and shook my hands that were somehow frozen in anxiety. Alton was already at my side and he too had noticed me trembling. We were already at the foot of the meeting room and once we opened it, there was no turning back.

"Couldn't help it." I muttered. I wasn't sure if Alton heard it or not, but he didn't react.

I couldn't help it. I couldn't help thinking about what happened to Robb. If everything was becoming a success or not. If, by chance that Renly did survive, they were able to stop King's Landing from causing more turmoil. I couldn't help the fact that the Red Wedding was a situation that could still happen. The Freys were still allies as of now, but who knows what could they be planning right now?

I couldn't help thinking about Theon and Ramsay. How he could freely roam the most humbling land in the North, knowing that he had some hidden agenda of taking it over. I couldn't help thinking the situation Theon could be in right now. If he was locked away in some dungeon beneath Dreadfort or worse, if he was already dead.

And then there were the Stark brothers, and then Sansa and Arya, where their locations are very much unknown to me now since a lot has changed. And then Robb's plea into helping me find all of them. The oath I was very much ready for, but I didn't know how I can commit.

And then there was Jon Snow.

I sighed. I wanted to know the answers right now, but at the same time, I was scared to know all of them. I couldn't explain it, but the closest reason I could get was that I never wanted to know. I didn't want to open the door in front of me now that would reveal some of the secrets in store for me. I wanted to stay on the other side. To let all the questions unresolved before me.

My head did a flinch when I felt a hand wrap along mine. I looked towards Alton who has his intense Lannister eyes looking at me.

"There's no need to be afraid now."

I silently nodded and gripped his hand tighter, accepting the support he was lending. Soon, he had pushed the doors open and we were greeted by the dozens of men all arguing over each other. The loud noise had even covered the creaking of the hollowed doors and we were able to enter without garnering too much attention. We slid ourselves over the walls until we joined in with our men.

Torrhen was standing with a bunch of other important people I'm guessing. He was very much into the fray of it and he too was distracted enough that he still didn't notice our presence. I would've imagined if it were me there, it would've been another Margaery moment and be the laughing stock of the parade. But still, by the looks of it, it seems like he's handling himself very well, although he was a bit haggard in his looks.

The talking droned on for another couple of minutes. It was mostly pointless conversation, I had noticed. I bumped an elbow to Alton who was silently whispering something to Warron.

"Did they already start?" I asked.

"Just talked with Warron, it appears they haven't even started yet." He answered, posing stiffly and observing the crowd while he leaned over to me. "I think we're missing one last delegate."

"And who's that?"

He didn't need to answer, for the doors that we had just entered opened, and a couple of heads had turned towards the direction. I had recalled the face. It was the man that talked with Torrhen the first day he came here. He was a slightly pudgy fellow with a stocky build. He was shorter than your average-sized Northerner, but he had a look of creepiness and intimidation when he entered the room.

And he almost looked like one of those hunched-shouldered lab assistants Dr. Frankenstein has in the movies.

The strangest part was the brown patch stitched in the front of his clothes.

The Bolton symbol.

There was no way that that was Ramsay. I had seen him. I swear I did. I instantly scanned my eyes all over the room to look for him, the _real_ him, but he wasn't around.

"It's not him." I muttered.

"Who?" Alton whispered over the brooding silence.

I gestured my head towards the man who just arrived and pointed at my chest to where his herald was.

"I swear I saw him. _The_ Ramsay Bolton. and _that's_ not him."

Stern eyes now had formed inside the meeting and you could almost feel the intensity in the air when everyone had turned on their serious mode. Still, I couldn't stand just letting myself immerse with them. My mind kept on replaying the true face of Ramsay. The one that I knew would scare me just by staring into those hauntingly blue eyes. And this guy wasn't him.

"I believe everyone is already here, let's get this meeting started." Torrhen spoke first, hushing the whispers of the crowd. "I believe the House representatives all over the North have gathered here tonight. I, Torrhen Karstark, personally represent House Karstark…"

I picked up the conversation, and noticed that he was introducing each of the delegates one by one. On his left was Cley Cerwyn, already noticeable that he was only in his teens. And then the next was Larence Snow who represented House Hornwood. That kid was even younger than the Cerwyn delegate. Robbett Glover was thankfully older by a few decades. And then Smalljon Umber who was around in his mid-twenties.

"… And then last, Ramsay Snow of Dreadfort."

I can't believe it. It's impossible… and still… but how…

The instant thought struck me regarding the whole Talisa Maegyr/Jeyne Westerling predicament. I knew something wasn't truly right in this. I'm not sure if there how people who got interchanged for some reason… and could this be possibly one of them?

I knew that Jon and Robb didn't look like who they were. They were years younger, but the resemblance is uncanny. It's like seeing them alive and there, only just shaving a few age off their back. This… I didn't get…

"Okay then, I believe introductions are already in order, let's start it off with _you_ ," Out of nowhere, the person who identified himself as Ramsay had pointed out to the speaker. "Torrhen Karstark, son of Rickard Karstark. I have heard reports that you were supposed to be among the ranks of your father. The war is certainly not located in the North… why the curious visit going back to Winterfell?"

Torrhen thankfully remained astute, and simply bowed slightly. "With all due respect my Lords, this was not my intention. I have brought here with me the silver crest of the Starks. I was entrusted with a mission, along a handful of men, to look for the whereabouts of his brothers."

He presented the ever-knowing Stark-crest. Geez, we've been floundering this with everyone. I swear if it wasn't for this, we couldn't possibly be here right now.

"Didn't you know? They're already dead. That Greyjoy bastard had already burned them alive at the courtyard just outside of here." The Ramsay person replied in doubt. "You _have_ seen the burnt noose on the executioner's stage haven't you?"

"It is indeed… a tragedy. We have only received the news when we entered Winterfell. We only decided to stay for a few days until we are all fully rested again, however we will proceed going back south to tell the Young Wolf what had happened."

I was mildly impressed that Torrhen was practically lying through his teeth. He's actually really good at this whole speaking thing. He seemed to be a born diplomat, if not better at controlling the Game. I couldn't help but smirk beneath the mask.

One of the delegates, I believe it was House Glover, spoke up. "Speaking of our Young Lord, I have heard reports of his coming siege at Red Keep."

I gasped. This is it.

"What happened?" Torrhen asked just as quickly as I thought of it. "Forgive me for sounding too hasty, we have been travelling solely by foot and avoided much of Kingsroad. We have not heard of any news regarding Robb after we have left encampment near Riverrun."

The delegate nodded. "It is as they say: Casterly Rock has been captured. There were no severe casualties, and trade routes coming in from Dorne to the Twins have been cut off. King's Landing is already pinned with only the sea for a chance to escape."

Oh thank God.

For once, a weight of worry in my chest started to ease a little, making me breathe out a sigh of relief. Things were starting to change, and I think this time for the greater good. At least, it's not as worse as what had happened originally. Right around now I was expecting some kind of distrust growing among the ranks of Robb's armies, but it seemed like it didn't happen this time. They are still as strong as ever, and for the life of me, they are already so close into achieving their victory.

I guess this is it then? If the Lannisters were driven out of Red Keep, would the war be finally over?

It would happen in a matter of days now. The siege won't be easy. We are talking about King's Landing after all. Before they get to the Keep, they will be going along the streets and the walls. There would certainly be civilians along the fray, and I prayed dearly that Robb or Stannis would think of a way before causing a lot of harm to others.

Speaking of harm, I took a glance at "Ramsay", and I noticed he was listening intently. I still couldn't make heads or tails about him yet, but I had a strong gut feeling that this some kind of elaborate plot that would somehow bite me in the butt later on. At least one part was clear though, that there is still a matter of the Boltons still having the capability of being turncloaks.

No matter how much the changes in characters were in the story, things were still clearly being forced to happen. Even if I try to take a gentle nudge out of it, somehow it still tries to wind its way through the correct course. The only thing that I knew that broke that rule was Renly's predicament.

"Now, it's only a matter of time before the Young Lord returns, and Winterfell is at a state of disorder. There were reports of bandits, plunderers, even Wildlings found within the area. And when we heard that there were more than a dozen men who settled in the castle, we had to make sure they weren't a threat." The Glover House delegate explained.

"Rest assured that House Karstark seek no claim to Winterfell. We shall remain loyal to the Starks, as my ancestors did before my time. That is my word."

I smirked at the remark. Oh, if you only knew how wrong that was if Robb tried to upset the balance just a little bit.

"House Karstark gave his word." Another representative claimed, I believe it was Smalljon of House Umber. "So please, let us press on with more urgent matters…"

The conversation was ringing on the background of my head after that. I didn't know why I didn't have the ability to withstand meetings like these. Either I must've been really tired, or I just didn't have a knack for politics. I looked at Alton to my side and he wasn't feeling bored at all.

It went on like that for about thirty minutes. I sometimes would try to stay awake, but my eyes kept fluttering closed. When I felt a nudge on my side, I would jolt out of my stupor and tried to pay attention. Just like classes back in the day, I guess.

…

I didn't know why I just mentioned that.

Before I got anything out of that though, there was a slight scratching of the floor by the entrance of the door. One of the giant doors opened, and came inside a man.

And holy shit, I wasn't kidding.

I knew it. I _knew_ I wasn't wrong.

"It's him." I muttered in a whisper.

Alton caught the sound of it, and he broke his eye contact to the much lesser topic. "What? Who?"

"The guy who just entered. It's _him._ _That's_ Ramsay."

"How'd you know—" I looked at him in the eye. "I-I mean, are you sure?"

I knew I was sure. The strikingly blue eyes. That face. Everything. The only thing that was suspiciously odd enough was the way he walked. He seemed to act all servant-y and nervous. His hands covered each other like he was rubbing himself of the cold.

The real Ramsay went to the fake one, and he whispered something in his ear. All discreetly of course, nodded, and went on his way back to the doors again.

"We have to follow him."

"What?" But before he was able to press further, I had already turned towards the doors as well. Luckily we were so far into the back that no one would notice if we had also left. I knew Torrhen could handle this on his own. He hasn't done anything that would raise flags from the delegates, so I'm pretty sure he has it covered.

Alton just gave up with a sigh and had started to follow me too. We eventually snuck out of that room and back towards the darkened hallway again.

* * *

We literally followed this guy through so many corridors that I had really thought he would've noticed sometime already and I was at some point trying to play us around, but thank the stars that he finally stopped by the final hallway and entered a room.

By the looks of it, I managed to notice that this was the hallway the Boltons stayed. The door was slightly ajar, and I gulped with some sudden thought of unwanted surprises, but I knew that Ramsay wouldn't dare spend blood on Stark home. I made a silent sign towards Alton, and we were already on the move.

We planted our backs against the walls like some super-secret international spy and peered inside the room. Ramsay was just standing there as if he was writing something down on paper by the table. I gestured Alton to be quiet and waited for my signal.

1…

2…

3…

I hurled the door open like some badass cop and Alton went straight for it and lunged at the person, pushing him against the wall. With his strength, he even got him a few inches above the ground too. That was impressive.

I walked across the small room, looking at him as the person tried to claw his way out of Alton's grip. But certainly it was to no avail. I took my time observing the room. It looked like any ordinary place, and there wasn't really much to note at least for the table, a bucket at one corner, and the bed on the other side.

I came across the note he was scribbling on, and that was just it: scribbles. There wasn't anything coherent in the writing, just some random squiggles on the piece of paper, which was very strange to me. It felt like the whole thing was a trap.

I immediately ran outside, but there wasn't anything besides the empty hallway and the lit torches.

I went back again, finally facing the two who were at it for at least a minute or two already. I gently pulled down the scarf that covered my mouth, and revealed myself to him.

I then gave him a wicked smile. "Soo, Ramsay Snow… I believe it is your turn this time around."

Ramsay only just stared in disbelief, but I ain't buying one shit. I've thoroughly checked his belongings and seemed to found no hidden knives or anything sharp and pointy he could retaliate with from his room. Except maybe for the tipped feather pen he was writing with earlier, but I made sure even that couldn't be made use as a weapon.

When I was sure everything was in the clear, I gently closed the door behind us and plopped a wooden chair right under the doorknob, making sure that none entered the room unannounced.

"Look, I don't trust your sorry little ass, but if you promise you wouldn't scream at the top of your lungs when tall-lanky-guy here let go of you, then you and I could make it out of here alive."

He nodded fervently as if he was scared out of his wits… which in the first place was something immensely out of character for him. I never knew that there was a day that I could actually scare off Ramsay, huh…

I signaled Alton and he pushed him against the wall one last time before releasing him. Ramsay plopped into the ground like a sack of potatoes, choking on air and gasping. What I would've assumed next was him laughing his ass off, making some villainous speech that I would make me regret what I did and then pulling out a knife and make a run for it, but instead, he scampered around one corner of the room hugging himself like he was some abused kid.

"Okay… I'll be making a few changes around here, and whatever I say goes. If you don't follow my orders… it's your… head on a pike…" My pacing slowed as I noticed what was happening in front of me.

Why the heck is he rocking himself? What the hell is going on?

A sudden thought flashed in my head.

"Who are you?"

No response.

I pulled out a portion of my sword underneath the scabbard, brandishing it with a sharp noise. He flinched. Threatening wasn't really my thing, but sometimes you just have to live the hard life to get what you want around these parts.

"R… Reek."

I looked at Alton he could clearly see the look on my face.

Well, this has taken what probably was the weirdest turn of the century.

* * *

 **A/N: Still alive and kicking. The delays have become very insane, again, I must apologize. Hope you are still alive and kicking too!**

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	8. The Smoke Clears

**A/N: Was really hoping I could have posted this up sometime before Christmas, but it really ended up badly delayed. Really couldn't pick up the pace in writing anymore... I think I can only focus a few paragraphs over the weekends, and then sometimes, I couldn't even anymore because of schedule. Still! I'm really hoping this year it could change. I want to get back to writing so badly again and I really do miss Rory's story. I think about it really often, so that's why I couldn't afford to abandon this. :)**

 **Still though! We're months ahead for the last season, and here's one more hope again I could finish Book 2 before the premiere!**

 **Anyway, let's get on with the show!**

* * *

Chapter 8

The Smoke Clears

* * *

"You're not Reek. Stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying… M'lord never told me to lie, and I won't—"

An irritated sound came off my lips. This was obviously going nowhere. I've already been talking to this guy for over a few minutes already and he still wanted to convince me into buying his bullshit. Well, too bad for him I already know where he was going with this.

But for a second there, I had really thought that this just _might_ be the person that I was exactly looking for, but I knew I had to stomp out that feeling and remind myself that this is all part of his Game. Even more so when this interrogation spiraling to nowhere. He was either method acting too much for his own good, or he was buying time for himself so that he could pull something out of his hat.

"This is taking too long." Alton remarked, slightly peering off the hallways every couple of seconds. He was right. For all we knew, the meeting from the main hall had ended and the rest of the Bolton army could already be on their way.

I've been actually avoiding this because I wanted to gauge him first into the interrogation. I had to know if he had his story all checked out and if he wasn't at all improvising, but I think right now I really couldn't beat around the bush anymore.

"Answer me one question… Are you Theon Greyjoy?" I had finally asked.

I immediately pointed out that he was pausing… for an unnecessary amount of time. I rose my eyebrow at that.

The impostor eventually shook his head. "N-n-no… I m-mustn't… M-m… M-m-my name is R-Reek."

Oh c'mon, you've got to be kidding me.

I went in and slowly approached the hunched man, Alton had seemed hesitant by the jerk of his sword, but I immediately waved a hand at him, opting to keep a fine close eye instead. I had then crouched in front of him, hands patted on my knees. "Fine, if you are who you say you are, then look at me."

His head was unbearably shaking as if he were in a blizzard, but the quarters was moist and warm from the burning candlelight. Albeit his aneurysm, he still had managed to raise his head to look at me.

I also noted that those piercing blue eyes were no doubt his… and that caught me in a spine-chilling daze. There was this unwavering feeling that undoubtedly sent shivers down my skin, but even the shivers were frozen on their own just by looking at it.

It was my turn this time to become awed for words. The flashbacks began to drill in my head again, like pictures that kept on shuffling as I quickly tried to remember everything. This heartless monster, this _worm_ … in times when he appeared in the small box, he had always been the eerie presence that always left me uncomfortable.

And the worst part was, there's no way I could separate fantasy and reality now. I kept on thinking that this was _real_ , what's in front of me was _real_. Lord knows how unspeakable things he did. Even if he had only just done it with one person…

But I knew I had to pull out a stern face. I have to muster up the courage. This was it for me. I knew I had to step to the pedestal or no one else will.

"Listen," I started, with the most effort of a serious face I could put on. "I don't care if you're Reek, if you're Ramsay, or even if you are the goddamned Mother of Dragons. _You_ don't _ever_ get in my way. And so help me, if you so ever put a glance in my direction with one singular, miniscule of a threatening intent, I swear I would take you down like a rabid dog you are. You hear me?"

If only you could see me oozing poison by then. For a moment there, I was dead serious. If only not for the shaking hands I was trying to cover, I would've _actually_ intimidated the true Ramsay. But right now, this was all I could muster.

But the way he tried to search my eyes for something… truth, maybe?

The answer wasn't the one I was expecting.

"They're coming."

I was suddenly in a panic attack when fake-Theon pushed me into a corner. I swore underneath my breath when my shoulders got went smack against the wall. Luckily, I was still conscious enough to know what was going on. That instant I felt the weight in front of me was removed, blinking my eyes open to see Alton pushing Ramsay back into the wall and then subsequently formed a fist aiming at his temple.

"How dare you even touch her—"

And because I was near the wall, I could suddenly hear footsteps echoing somewhere in the distance. Alton had stopped too, his head jerked at the heightened sense when the sound of boots came closer and closer.

"You have to hide, please," Ramsay wailed as if his life depended on it. "Please…"

That was the first time I ever saw him beg, and it took me out of turn. "Wait, not yet." I said.

Alton hesitated, but he still shoved him against the wall before letting him go. Ramsay breathed a sigh of relief, but he was already on his knees and limped across the room. He unfolded a huge tablecloth and pointed with his head the table he was writing on a moment ago.

"No. There's no way we're hiding in there." Alton argued.

 _Tch_. "We really don't have a choice." I answered, but I was still keeping a close eye on Ramsay. The footsteps were already in the hallway now, and we could already hear echoes of mutters near the distance.

"We could fend them off, but it might alert some of the other patrols…" Alton then remarked again.

I thought for a second, and then decided that violence could still be avoided, but if we were to ever get snitched, then I guess we'll be left with no choice.

"It's fine, let's just..."

Trailing off to get a move on, both of us hurdled together underneath the table and wound up tightly against our forms while fake-Theon covered us to the foot. I heard him gently placing some metal and wood, probably some candlelight and a few knick-knacks to buy the disguise. We heard footsteps and the door had slowly closed, becoming as quiet as possible, and then a click echoed inside the room.

A few more seconds passed, and the heavier footsteps approached. The door opened.

And then there were silence.

I looked at Alton, hugging him and kept shoving myself closer to his warmth. He was in a state of shock. I guess it was because he was afraid of being caught. We both were. There were a lot of things going through my head. Were they silently talking to each other? Were the guards inspecting the room? Is Ramsay going to point at us just to end it all?

I gave a silent breath, steeling myself. I had to reassure Alton as well. I held his hand to mine. He blinked like he was brought back to reality, and he looked away.

"No funny business, _slave_."

Again, another pause. I looked at Alton again who was simply staring at the white sheets. I poked his head. Finally looking back at me, I signed him that there were no sounds coming out and pointed at his sword.

If this was about to go downhill, then hell, we won't go down without a fight.

I was already about to bring out my sword out until Alton had stopped me the same time the door creaked closed. A couple of seconds past and we heard footsteps growing fainter. After that, we heard a click by the door and then a jingling sound propped somewhere in front of us.

Both of us immediately scrambled off our feet, picking up the keys on the ground in the process. Alton cleared his throat while he hoisted me up, and then we were back to square one.

I looked at Ramsay, and if it weren't for his ruse, he would've been forming a face as if to say "you believe me now?"

I still shook my head and rolled my eyes. _Fine_. He may have won this round, but I still wouldn't let my guard down in front of him.

"I take it you're convinced that this is the Bolton bastard." Alton stated, his eyes weary of the other person in the room.

"I _know_ he is. He's definitely lying through his teeth. And my assumptions have never failed me yet." I said. Exaggeration, I know, but I needed the reinforcement. At this rate, I'm slowly being convinced that Theon maybe hidden somewhere else. It may be just a hunch, but if I were on his shoes, I wouldn't dare let him join me into Winterfell. I'm only guessing that's what Ramsay might do in this situation.

"Then we'd best get moving, my lady. Lest be guards surrounding us on every corner."

Alton contemptuous gaze still hasn't left the other person in the room. He already had one hand on the hilt again, as if he could draw it at any instant if he wanted to.

The impostor seemed to have caught the hint.

"N-nn-no, my lady, please!" He begged yet again. Until utter realization dawned on him. "Y-you're…"

"Y-y-you're her?" The impostor spoke. "The one they call the lady of Fate?"

I raised a brow in suspicion. Something about his question didn't hit my ego enough to be gratified. "Since when does a 'slave' could gather _that_ information?"

Again he went hysterical. "N-no, my lady! I've… already heard of you… for a long time… months and months ago."

That's it. That was the last straw. The vein that kept me from lunging at him and beat him to a pulp had already popped. But instead of doing just that, I strutted over the end of the room and roughly took hold of his wrist. I had forced him to raise his hand, dirty cloth and bandages covered the whole thing. Slowly, I had managed to release the straps that bound his hand, and the skin white-flesh appeared.

The nails. That was the first thing I remembered when the _real_ Theon was tortured. His fingers. I didn't know how much he had suffered, but that was the only proof I needed.

And it was there. Mangled. Brutal. I had almost immediately regretted it.

The sight was truly horrific. There were fingers cut off, and midway through healing— almost the ugliest phase. his nails were either torn or removed. There were bruises ridden all over what skin that was showing.

And something about what I did felt like I had intruded a personal part of his life.

I had immediately jerked the hand away, like an electricity that had shocked me.

"I… I…"

"Please…" His voice croaked one more time, and then his eyes pointed to the bandages I had just noticed that was in my other hand.

That was the moment I caved in.

"I'm s-sorry…" I immediately poured myself over him and wrapped up the makeshift-glove back together.

Was this him? Was this the _real_ Theon that we've been looking for? I'm absolutely stumped right now looking for the answers in my head. It's like, everything still is pointing to the fact that he shouldn't be trusted, but at the same time, I had seen the proof that I need.

"I… we… have to go."

There wasn't really much left to it. I had suddenly left there in an instant and contemplate on what the flipping heck just happened.

* * *

It was another morning, and I stayed inside one of the upper rooms inside the castle that had a bed and a side table. I had told Alton before we parted ways to tell everyone where I was sleeping, and the reason why I didn't want to sleep in the bunkbed last night. Like there was ever any sleep I did last night anyway.

The meeting had finished when I returned but after the whole Ramsay-Theon thing, I just had to signal a retreat and went back to recuperate. I think that was the reason why I wasn't able to sleep. Everything was just… terrible. I couldn't shake off the feeling of Ramsay's face molded into Theon's... The film grains in my head, the images of Theon were slowly being replaced into the face that I had met the night before. I was too into it. I was too invested that Theon was just Theon, and Ramsay was Ramsay. And I couldn't even fathom it…

But I had also thought of the _fake-fake_ Ramsay that was in the meeting… Could he be the _true_ Bolton? Was he really what was he depicted in the books? Then again, it could just be another Jeyne and Talisa thing, like there was just some kind of mixup in the whole continuity that things are just different than what it is…

I woke up and had gotten ready, thinking about almost everything I had to that day. There were still preparations for our expedition, and then I had to solve this problem in Winterfell, and then there was the situation down south, and then Ramsay Bolton…

"My Lady,"

I turned my head and saw Alton by the doorway.

"Dom wants you by the Raven tower. Said about something important."

"Oh, uh… okay."

"Do you… do you want me to accompany you?"

"It's okay. I'll be fine."

He then nodded, but stayed. I think it was obvious from how I'm acting that there' something wrong.

Though I hadn't spoken after for a minute, I just let the silence thrum along the room until I had finished preparing.

"Alton… Can I ask a question?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think… I could be wrong with my predictions?"

He wasn't entirely prepared for that question, and it took him a moment before he answered. There was also a little worry etched on his face. "Was it because of last night?"

It was difficult for me to forget what had happened. It still bothered me some. I hesitated at the question, but I nodded. "It's just _hard_. I'm clearly obsessed with the whole Ramsay thing… I can't just can't seem to put my finger on him…"

I let out a sigh, as if there's a tingling burden inside of me just had to be released.

"I mean, I… I don't really know if you could understand it, but, you know I have this witchy-powers, right? I mean, at the very bottom of it, there are a lot of things I know that had happened, _happened_... But… What if… there are some things that are supposed to happen, _didn't_ happen?"

Alton's features deepened, his lax state had become rigid and he straightened his posture.

"You're thinking over it too much."

A strange feeling sunk into my stomach. I didn't know what it was, but it had started to churn my insides. I was surprised how blunt he had said it, like he turned a complete one-eighty on me.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. I shouldn't—"

"No," He interrupted, surprised as well by the sudden change of his tone. "What I meant to say was, what happened with you last night... shouldn't you be worried about something else other than that?"

"Huh? I don't understand…"

Alton gazed at me, but then he let out a sigh. I could sense that he trying to control himself, but to what? I didn't know. What was he trying to say? Wasn't Ramsay the worst part of that situation? He seemed really okay when he first entered the room… What was his problem?

"He's a _Bolton_." He emphasized.

"Yeah, and that's why we need to stop him, right?"

Another breath, this time deeper than before.

"Yes, I guess that's true." There was a pause, and he slumped his shoulders again. He then decided to change the course of his tone. "It is _indeed_ very frightening to think the future you knew was not what it intended to be. I could see why that bothers you. You carry so much burden already trying to fix everything by yourself."

"But you've got to look out for yourself from to time, okay?" He then continued.

I didn't know what I should answer after that. There was something that he was definitely hiding. I knew he was trying to lead me on, but to where, I really didn't know.

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry, I will." Were the only words I could muster at that time.

Again, we just stood to where we were, neither of us moving. He seemed like he didn't want to let go of the topic just yet, but in time he relented and moved himself to the side so I could go through the door. He said his farewells and reminded me about Dom over at the raven.

I knew I had to keep moving. Here's to hoping that we could have another opportunity to talk about it net time.

* * *

This was my first time ever being in Winterfell's Raven tower. This really brought back some memories back when I assisted Aegon at the Wall. There were ravens cawing all over, but they weren't really in their cages that hung around the room. they were more like they're neatly spread throughout the wooden stands that formed a T, all of them belonging to him but out in their cages, probably still weary from standing from all the travels.

The smell of seeds and poop also permeated the air. That had actually made me crinkle my nose a bit. I made my presence known with the rapping of the open door.

"Ah! You're here. I bring some news." Dom eventually had invited Torrhen and I in, taking care of some parchments and scrolls, and then placing them into a separate table. What he had on the other one was a small piece of scroll with a seal.

"There's another House coming?" I asked, but Dom only played it cool and answered with a smile. Geez, Talk about suspense. But it was weird. I assumed every important family that deemed us being in Winterfell important enough was already in here… I wonder who could be coming late to the party.

I walked over to the table.

And then I saw the House engraved on the seal.

Holy shit.

It was the Stark symbol.

"Holy shit."

I immediately unsealed the parchment and unfolded it. Looking at the first few lines, the whole letter was unaddressed.

 _Hope this comes to you in good faith. I have recently received you have been taking care of Winterfell for me. I am very grateful for that. Please, stay for as long as you wish. Know that you are always welcome in the Stark home._

 _It has been some time since I came back to you, and for that I must apologize. The situation with the Tyrells have now been fixed, but it came with heavy losses. I'm writing to you now the same time we had retaken over castle Highgarden. Like I've said, there were many that died from battle from each side, but I'll tell you more about that some other time. The memories are still fresh from my head. Do not worry though, Renly and his wife are still well._

 _You may have heard of it already, but by the time you read this message, my men are already advancing towards King's Landing. In a few days, this whole war would be over. I can assure you there would be vengeance dealt in my family's honor._

 _But this message comes to you not because of that. There are still a lot of factors in play. The hidden daggers are starting to emerge, especially with our allies and treaties. So far they have high hopes for this war. I've already been sending a few of the men who can't fight to their homes already, which helped eased some worries. Like you have expected._

 _Some of the others though, they are getting restless. I have not wed myself yet; you know who I'm speaking to. He plans to have it done before the siege. I'm being invited to his court, a banquet to celebrate, but I'm weary, and thus I want to seek your advice again._

 _My siblings, have you found them already? I have not heard of any of anyone yet to return, and Sansa is still being held captive by the Lannisters… I hope they are alright and with you safe._

 _Be careful, and Winter is coming._

"Shit." I muttered.

The two in the other room blinked owlishly. "Is it bad?" Torrhen mentioned.

"No, it's..." I answered. "It's confirmed. Robb and Renly's on their way to King's Landing already. But there's something else."

"What is it?" He asked hurriedly.

"It's happening. The Red Wedding."

* * *

 **A/N: Dun dun dunnn! Sorry again for the cliffy, but let me know what you think about it!**

 **Thank you again for all the recent follows, reviews, and faves... sorry I couldn't reply to them as much, but for this weekend and the coming days, I'll try as much as I can to reply to you!**

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